


It's Never Too Late

by phoenix_michie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Season/Series 14, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, DCBB2019, Dean/Cas Big Bang 2019 (Supernatural), Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mental Breakdown, POV Dean Winchester, Past Castiel (Supernatural)/Other(s), Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, Sharing a Bed, Vomiting, abuse of painkillers, pet death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-12-31 06:10:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 69,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21094286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix_michie/pseuds/phoenix_michie
Summary: The permanent damage Dean suffered when they defeated Michael made it easier for Sam and Cas to convince him that it was time for Team Free Will to officially retire.Civilian life hasn’t turned out exactly like Dean had hoped. Instead of quiet domesticity in the bunker with his brother and his angel, Dean’s got a drinking problem and a bone-deep ache where Cas ought to be.Hitting rock-bottom, he breaks Cas’ “don’t call me, I’ll call you” rule, and gets a surprising invite to see Cas for the first time in months.Now he’s just got to keep it together enough to avoid getting kicked out of Cas’ life permanently.[canon-divergent after s13]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my DCBB story! I'm so honored to participate in this amazing challenge, and I'm so happy to have been paired up with the artist [thedogsled](https://thedogsled.tumblr.com). I truly love her beautiful art.
> 
> I'm also unbelievably grateful to have [captainhaterade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhaterade) at my side who did such a tremendous job as a beta reader. It's only thanks to her amazing help and support that I'm able to post. No joke.
> 
> I'm proud of this fic, and I don't say this lightly because I'm self-critical. It took me over a year to write and edit it. In fact, it's the very first English SPN fic I started to write--there were other fics that I posted before this one was ready, though. So, this is my baby, and I love it.
> 
> This is one of many endings that I personally dream of.
> 
> I began to write this story a few weeks before season 14 started, so it’s canon-divergent after s13.
> 
> Please mind the tags, folks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the tags! Dean hits rock-bottom directly in this chapter.

** **

***.*.***

Dean is in pain; his brain feels foggy. He can’t remember a damn thing. Where is he? Why is he here? What’s _happening?_

All these questions hurt, but it gets worse when his pounding head joins the party.

Dean stares down at himself, feeling uneasy. All that pain, all that blood_—_it’s overwhelming.

_Why is there so much blood on my hands?_

Dean lifts his head. There are bodies on the concrete floor, unmoving. As he takes a step closer to them, he realizes that they are corpses, covered in mostly dried blood.

Something is so very wrong.

“Please… _please…_”

Dean spins around. There is a young woman tied to chains which hang off the ceiling. He swallows, his heart rate picking up.

_I’m gonna free you, _he wants to say, but nothing comes out. He’s not able to talk. Instead, his feet bring him closer to the woman. She whimpers when he comes to a halt in front of her. She is covered in sweat and bruises. What has done that to her? Dean wants to question her, wants to untie her, but his body doesn’t obey.

What the fuck is wrong here?

_“I’m letting you see, Dean.”_

Okay, this voice isn’t creepy at all. Nope. Not creepy. _A voice in his fucking head._

_“I thought you might be interested in my actions.”_

Something cold unfolds in Dean’s chest. He remembers now. Most of the time, he is shut out. He sleeps. But now, he can see. How his body, but _not him_, reaches out and takes a long knife. He hears the woman whimper, then scream, as he begins to slice into her skin, hurting her.

He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want her blood on his hands.

What he wants is to stop Michael from doing this. But Michael doesn’t obey. He lets Dean see and he lets him hear.

Lets him feel.

***.*.***

Dean wakes up screaming, kicking the blankets off his body. He sits upright in his bed, sweating and panting heavily, like he just ran a marathon.

His heart almost leaps out of his chest as he fumbles automatically for the gun hidden under the pillow. Aimlessly, he points it into the surrounding darkness. It’s still night.

His confusion lasts for a few seconds before he puts away his gun, knowing that it’s pointless. He’s at home, in Kansas. Alone. Whether the last point is a good thing or not, he’s not sure.

Dean lets out a controlled breath. He needs to get his shit together. He runs a hand over his mouth, then through his hair. His heart rate slows a little. _Good._ He doesn’t need another panic attack.

Cautiously, Dean reaches for the nightstand, fumbling for the lamp to switch it on. The warm light soothes him a little. He hates the dark. Sighing, he slides to the edge of the bed. The floor under his feet feels cold and grounding.

Dean shuts his eyes, but he can still see. There’s that woman from his nightmare, tears streaming down her face. He can see what she feels: panic. Panic that he caused. It’s all Dean’s fault. He knows she’s dead now. Dean did that to her.

Another deep breath. Dean knows he has to calm himself, even though it’s hard.

He kinda misses Sam, even if his brother at times annoys the shit out of him. He hates that mother hen side of Sam, but the fact that Dean has someone who cares about him, who is always there for him_—_it’s nice. Dean can admit that.

Dean listens. All of his windows are closed since he doesn’t trust this town. Actually, he doesn’t trust the whole world. There are still things out there, going bump in the night. Often enough they are invited by open windows. So Dean protects himself. Sometimes he misses the safety of the bunker, but he and Sam had agreed that they couldn’t keep living there. Not if they wanted to lead a normal life.

So here he is, in some Kansas suburb, renting a little house, doing odd jobs to pay his bills. Listening to the peace and quiet out there. Just the wind is to be heard since everyone is asleep.

Dean is so very tired of his life. Even though they’re not hunting anymore, it’s not all rainbows and butterflies now. He still has those nightmares, keeps having them ever since they defeated Michael.

The incident with the archangel had been the final straw. After the dust had settled and Dean had been somewhat healed, he had decided he’d had enough. Sam had agreed. Castiel had agreed. So Dean tries his best to keep his shit together, but with every day passing, he feels worse. Tired. Nervous. Worn out. _Lonely._

Sam lives only a few houses down the street, so Dean can always see him and talk to him if he wants to. This, however, had already lost its appeal a week after they’d moved here, because Sam is still being an annoying little brother, worrying constantly about Dean, even though it should actually be the other way around. Right?

Dean reaches for his phone. No new messages, no calls. Then again, this is his private number, so it’s not unexpected. Only a handful of people have his number. Sam and Cas, obviously. His mom, Jack and Jody. He even would have given it to Bobby_—_the other one_—_but the old man didn’t want to be bothered with things like _phones._ He had looked offended at the worn smartphone that Sam had once offered him and had promptly declined.

Dean’s got another phone though, which is for hunter calls only. If someone needs help, Dean connects the hunter with another one. Or he provides some knowledge, like Bobby_—_their Bobby_—_once did when he was still alive.

Up to now, Dean hasn’t yet managed to fully retreat from the hunter life, just like Mary. She is still hunting, much to Sam and Dean’s disapproval. But they let her go. They understand her, but still, she is their mom and they are always afraid when she is on a hunt. They don’t like the idea, but they are always willing to help, no matter if it’s knowledge, gear, shelter, medical care. Whatever Mary needs, they give it to her. She rarely asks for that, though. She is a tough woman, swinging by every other week, eating away what Dean has cooked. They talk, she stays a night or two at Dean’s or Sam’s, and then she leaves again.

It’s okay since the brothers know that she’s alright. And if she’s not, she calls and the boys take off to get her. But in all the months that they have lived here, that only has happened twice. That’s actually an okay frequency, Dean muses.

And then there’s Castiel.

Dean takes a deep breath to interrupt his train of thought. It’s night and he’s just being sentimental, but he doesn’t want to be. Not now, in the middle of the night, feeling all alone and vulnerable.

Eventually, he rises from the bed and walks into the kitchen, where he spots some empty beer bottles on the counter, an empty Jack Daniels and a full, yet unopened one. Dean needs to put them away before Sam decides to swing by unannounced. He doesn’t want to concern his brother since Sam deserves to be happy. His baby brother really spent enough of his time worrying about him.

Feeling more than just tired, Dean opens the new bottle of whiskey and takes two sips. It burns nicely in his throat, comforting him a little. It helps him falling asleep again, so his guilt keeps to a reasonable amount.

Somewhere in one of his rooms he hears a clock ticking and it’s unnerving. Dean moves without thinking twice. He searches for the noise and finds an old, round clock hanging on the wall next to his TV stand. It has never bothered him before, but now it does, which is why he picks it up and removes the battery. The previous owner left it here and Dean can see why. Who even wants that noisy thing in their house?

It’s very quiet again in an instant. Dean can hear the wind blowing around the house, the wooden floor creaking softly under his bare feet as he goes back into his bedroom. It’s only three o’ clock so he might sleep for another three hours. Despite quitting the hunter life, Dean still doesn’t need that much sleep. More than six hours is simply not possible.

He slides under the still-warm blankets and tries not to think of tomorrow. One day blends into another. None stands out. There are no hunts that distract him. No other people than Sam to talk to in this town.

Dean struggles with this “normal” life. He had wanted one, but not quite this one. He’d expected something different. More.

He had expected _Cas _to be in it.

***.*.***

Freshly showered and dressed, Dean exits the bathroom when he hears a sharp knock on his door. It’s Sam, that’s for sure. They both were paranoid enough after all these years of creatures breaking in or trying to deceive them, that they thought of a little assurance: a secret knock. It’s simple and not really something that should make them feel safer opening the door, but both of them indeed feel better having it.

Since Dean doesn’t want to greet his brother with a gun in his hand, he looks out of the small window next to the door, because, well, he needs one more assurance_—_and yes, it’s Sam standing on his porch.

Dean opens the door with a small smile on his lips. “Heya, Sam. Didn’t know you wanted to come over.”

His brother raises an eyebrow. “I sent you a message, Dean. Haven’t you checked your phone?”

“Obviously not…” Dean murmurs as he lets Sam enter the house. “There a reason for coming over?”

“No, I just wanted to check in.” They walk towards the kitchen island that separates the kitchen from the living room. “Dean…?” Sam shoots him a disapproving look.

Oh.

Dean winces when he sees all the empty bottles of alcohol still standing on the counter. “Oh, uh… I had friends over last night?” It sure sounds more like a question than a statement and his brother can see right through his shit.

“Which friends?” But Sam isn’t expecting an answer since he already knows that Dean hasn’t made any friends yet. “Dean, just…please, tell me that you didn’t drink all of this in one day.”

“I didn’t,” he answers immediately, since it’s true. Over the last months he’s experienced less desire to drink alcohol. Maybe he’s just getting old.

Sam sighs and nods. “Okay. So… How are you doing?”

Dean shrugs as he makes a beeline for the coffee maker. “Nothing happened since you last visited which was….the day before yesterday.” He shoots Sam an annoyed look. Sam visits often but rarely stays long. Dean guesses that his brother just wants to make sure that Dean’s still here and not completely trashed. Damn mother hen. Which reminds him of Sam’s companion.

Dean narrows his eyes and gives Sam a quick once over.

“Where’s Sully?”

His brother sits down on a chair at the island and brushes a hand through his hair. “Well… Something happened.”

“Is he okay?” Sully is Sam’s dog, who he’s had for two months now.

Dean pours them both a cup of freshly brewed coffee, then sets them down on the counter, after he’s pushed aside the beer bottles. He takes a seat and looks at Sam with worry.

“He’s okay,” Sam answers. “Nothing happened to him. It’s more…to me.” He grimaces. Oh lord, what is his brother confessing to him? Dean isn’t sure if he really wants to know. “It’s…uh…a girl. I had a date.”

“You _had _a date? You didn’t tell me before it actually happened?” Dean kind of feels hurt. Betrayed. Shut out. Whatever.

Sam sighs and hangs his head. “Yeah, I was… I was nervous, you know? I didn’t tell anybody beforehand so that nobody could ask questions, in case it didn’t go well. I just met her for dinner and well, it clicked.”

Dean manages a smug grin despite his hurt feelings. “Let me guess. She’s at your place now. Probably still asleep in your bed. The dog lying next to her.”

Sam smiles. “Yes…”

“I’m proud of you, Sammy. You scored at the first date!”

Sam laughs. “Yeah well, she’s pretty cool.”

“So…was that a one-timer?”

“No, I don’t think so. At least I hope it wasn’t. I like her. A lot. And I want you to meet her. It doesn’t have to be today, but…you know, soon.”

Dean just nods. So Sam has a girlfriend now. He tries to be happy for him. “Okay, sure. What’s her name?”

Sam takes a sip of his black coffee before answering. “Val. Valerie. No kids, no pets. Not possessed. I met her at work.”

“She’s a customer?”

Sam nods. “She’s new in town. She was kind of mingling with the locals. You know.” Currently, Sam’ a bartender in the town’s only bar. Dean once did the same job there. But he changes jobs frequently. Nothing is appealing enough to hold him long. _Nothing’s like hunting._

“That was like two weeks ago. Every other day she came to talk to me, drink something… And then we agreed on a date.”

“Does she know anything?” Dean’s referring to hunting.

“No, of course not. And I don’t wanna tell her,” his brother answers, sounding insulted.

“Okay…sure. Better this way.”

Sam sighs. “We both have our secrets. There are things she won’t talk about, so do I. But we haven’t known each other long enough for those stories, I guess.”

“Yet you already like her enough that you trust her with Sully,” Dean says with a soft smile. Sam nods. He adores his dog. And so does Dean. It's a well-behaved animal, probably adorable, but Dean feels uneasy every single time a dog is around ever since a hellhound has torn him to pieces. He’s a huge dog, something Alaskan. Dean forgot the name of the breed. Sully reminds him of some sort of husky since he’s got grey and white fur and he’s very, very energetic and keeps Sam on his toes. They jog a lot together, morning and evening. _Freaks._

“So, how did you sleep?” Sam makes it sound casual, but again, this is the mother hen speaking. Unfortunately, he knows about Dean’s nightmares, his anxiety, his aches and pains and all that crap. His issues only got worse since Michael.

“Was okay.” Dean shrugs. Well, generally speaking it really has been okay. He’s had worse nights.

“Mh…” Sam doesn’t seem convinced and dives right into the next sensitive topic. “Did you hear from Cas?”

Dean’s lips tightens as does his grip around his half empty mug. “Nah. Why should I? Last time he called was only a week ago.”

Sam sighs. “Yeah…sure. Cas and his weird schedule. And he still didn’t say what he was up to?”

Dean snorts. “I don’t know shit. He doesn’t tell me anything but keeps me asking dumb questions.”

“What are they about?” Sam’s curiosity seems to be genuine.

“Things about gardening. Gardening, Sam. As if I’d know.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “About kitchen stuff…if he really needs to have so many different pans and pots. How to use a fish knife. Why so many countries have Daylight Savings Time even though the only purpose it seems to fulfill is 'being a pain in the ass', and yes, that's the way he said it,” he adds. “How to set up Netflix. Yada yada.” Dean stops and licks his lips. Thinking about Castiel makes him feel angry. Hurt. Disappointed. Because Castiel ran away from him.

Sam sets down his empty mug and looks at him sympathetically. “Dean, I know this isn’t easy. Neither for you nor for him. We all try to find our place in this new life. We’re all struggling. You promised him space, you still give it to him. And I’m sure he’s thankful for it. He will tell you more when he’s ready.”

“Well, I’m ready since _yesterday_. I hate to wait for him to call every other week. It fucking sucks.” Dean shuts his eyes. There is no point in complaining about Castiel. “Does he call you?”

“He did twice. It’s been some time now, though.”

Dean nods and stands up to rinse their mugs. “You should get back to your girlfriend.”

“Yes.” Sam stands as well. “Dean, don’t be mad at him. Please.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever. He can handle himself just fine.” Sam looks at him sadly, but doesn’t reply. “Say hi to Val for me. I can come over this week for dinner.”

“That’d be nice,” Sam says with a genuine smile. “I called Mom and asked her to come back.”

“Wow, you’re already that serious with your girl?”

Sam shrugs and there is something in his eyes that makes Dean tense. “We could die any day, Dean. Me…her… I don’t know how much time we have left. So I won’t fool around, man. I take every chance I get.”

Dean can understand that sentiment, so he nods. “Okay. See you.” He escorts Sam to the door, waves him goodbye and returns into the living room.

He’s alone again. There are another two hours before he has to show up at work. An auto repair shop at the end of the town. He’s been working there for three weeks and it feels good. Maybe he can make another three weeks there.

***.*.***

It turns out he can’t.

Two weeks later Dean has a huge hangover. So huge in fact that he doesn’t just call in sick, he also quits his job in the very same moment. It’s gotten boring anyway and right now he doesn’t care about a job anymore.

The reason is a little girl that had been killed. She’d been found dead at the edge of town. Sam’s not sure yet what did it. Vampire, abiku?

Something had come into his town and Dean hadn’t noticed. Now a girl is dead and Dean was dead set on tracking that motherfucker himself, but Sam, on the other hand, was dead set on _not them _being the ones hunting down that thing. After a pretty bad fight, Dean finally gave in and now the case has been given to another pair of hunters.

Dean feels sick to his stomach and not just because of his massive hangover. He’s not ready yet to _not _be a hunter. And he desperately wants to talk to Cas about this fucked up situation. But that’s not part of the deal Castiel had offered, so Dean has to wait for him to call.

That is why he drank until he fell asleep. There hadn’t been anything better to do and he just hadn’t wanted to feel the guilt anymore, because, yes, he does feel responsible for that girl’s death. And he feels even guiltier for being relieved that he hadn’t known her.

***.*.***

Dean’s nightmares get worse. They are more bloody, scary, awful. There’s more pain that’s inflicted. Dean’s hurting, too. Every time he wakes up, he’s emotionally drained, often feeling a dull pressure behind his temples.

He starts sleeping on the couch with the TV switched on, that’s how desperate he is. It helps for a while.

***.*.***

“Dean, you have to get a job. Your savings will be used up soon. I can’t support you much, you know that.” Sam makes that sad puppy-dog-face. He knows something’s wrong but he also knows that pushing Dean won’t help. “Come on, Dean. We’ll find you something.”

Dean declines.

***.*.***

Dean has been feeling like shit for several days now and Sam wants to help more than ever. His brother tried to make him talk but Dean didn’t know how that was supposed to help, so he clammed up. He’s tired all day and continues sleeping on the couch instead of the bed. Maybe that’s part of the problem since the couch isn’t that comfortable.

He hides himself under a lot of warm blankets, usually only leaving his cocoon when Sam knocks on the door. Sometimes he even lets him in, if only to tell Sam he’s okay and that his little brother should be spending his time with Valerie instead of constantly checking on him. Sam then leaves him with a disappointed look on his face because he’s Sam and, as always, he can see right through Dean’s bullshit.

Dean goes back to the living room, closing the curtains, before he crawls back into his warm cocoon, imagining not being alone. He shuts his eyes tight, thinking of some sappy apple pie life that he’d like to live. With someone he could tell everything. Just be himself, no need to pretend to be strong.

***.*.***

Dean’s floating. He doesn’t know what day it is, what month, what time. He doesn’t care, and he doesn’t even care that he doesn’t care.

He misses Castiel and he misses being on a hunt with his brother. The feeling of satisfaction after a case has been wrapped up. He misses being close to Cas. Sometimes they had shared a motel bed when money was tight and Castiel’s warmth had been overwhelming. Intense, nice. It had felt good.

Dean tries to count the days since he’s last seen Castiel face to face but since he doesn’t know what date it is, he simply can’t. But it’s been months now. Far too long.

Dean suspects that he must be kind of depressed. He doesn’t even leave the house anymore to buy booze. He can’t quite put a finger on it, but for some reason he feels like there’s no energy left in him. Just grief and guilt and hurt feelings and he’s not strong enough to tell the most important people in his life about any of it.

He keeps staring at the boring ceiling until he falls asleep, more nightmares waiting for him.

He’s so lost in himself, in his own misery, that he even misses Cas’ incoming calls, since he doesn’t look at his phone anymore. Its battery is probably empty anyway.

***.*.***

“Dean?”

“_Dean!”_

There is some commotion in his house. At the door? In the kitchen? Suddenly it’s very bright in the living room. What about the curtains on the windows that he had closed…?

“Mom, give me a hand here.”

Stressed out voices. And Dean figures it’s because of him. He fucked up royally, he knows that, and so he tries to keep his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to see the world. He doesn’t want to see anyone.

Maybe Castiel.

No, not even Cas. The guy has disappointed him. Hurt him.

Dean wants to keep wallowing in self-pity. “Go away…,” he grunts as he tries to fight off the person that’s suddenly right by the couch, but there’s no energy left in him.

***.*.***

With a shock Dean comes to his senses. His first instinct is to grab his gun, so he reaches out, but his hand hits cold, hard tiles instead. Irritated, he lifts his gaze, blinking against the lukewarm water which is pouring down on him.

He’s in a shower. In his bathroom. Sam and Mary crouch beside him, looking deeply concerned.

“Dean, hey… Hey, take it easy,” Sam says softly, touching his chest. “Everything’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

Mary reaches out and takes his hand. Her palm is comfortingly warm. “We’re here for you.” There’s pain in her eyes. Dean’s first thought is that she’s embarrassed or annoyed that she has to take care of her forty-year-old son.

He feels his knees aching. They always do when they’re bent a bit. It’s one of the “gifts” Michael left behind when he was forced out of Dean’s body.

He only grunts and leans back, his head hitting the hard tiles of the shower.

***.*.***

It’s quiet after that, nobody says a word. And even though Dean’s mortified, he chooses to not talk to his family. He doesn’t apologize for his miserable state and that they had to take care of him. He’s embarrassed and he wants to forget about the past awful days.

Now, he can’t look them in the eyes. But the good thing about Sam and Mary is that they understand, and so they don’t talk much. They just give him some company.

After pulling him out of the shower, they walked him into the bedroom where he’d changed into some dry clothes. While Sam had taken off to get some take-out, Mary had cleaned Dean’s place.

Now, they’re eating together in the kitchen. Dean can’t remember the last time he had a meal. It’s been some time, maybe two or three days. There’s nothing left in his house that’s edible, so tomorrow he really should go out for groceries.

Neither Sam nor Mary leave Dean’s house that night. Mary takes the spare bedroom, Sam takes the couch.

That night, Dean sleeps without any dreams.

He wakes up at 6 a.m. as if nothing ever happened.

***.*.***

“Dude, check your phone. Cas went crazy.” The _‘And me, too’ _is hanging in the air unspoken.

Sam and Dean are in Dean’s kitchen. Mary has gone to buy some groceries for both her boys. She’s giving them some privacy, Dean knows. She probably thinks that some brother talk would help Dean. He’s sure it won’t.

“Cas?” It hurts thinking about him. Dean stares at Sam incredulously.

“Yes. He wanted to talk to you as usual, and when you didn’t answer for two days he called me. But I didn’t know anything either… I came by, you didn’t open… So he called and texted like every day to hear if I heard something…”

Dean sighs. “But you’ve already told him that I’m fine now?”

“No.” Dean lifts his gaze from his coffee and shoots Sam an irritated look. “Dean, I think you should call him.”

“Call him?” Dean parrots and gives Sam a look as if he’s dumb. “I can’t call him.”

“I think it’s time. It’ll be okay.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Dean lowers his head.

“Hey, I know you don’t wanna make it worse. But I’m sure he’d be okay with it now.”

“Yeah, no. I wanna hear him say it himself.”

Sam groans and continues bitching about it for another ten minutes, but Dean doesn’t give him a yes or no. He doesn’t want to talk about Castiel. Not at all.

“You got the hunters’ call?” Sam asks him suddenly.

Dean narrows his eyes and shakes his head. “Why? What did they want?”

“They, uhm…they got the thing that killed the little girl two weeks ago.” Sam doesn’t need to ask if he remembers. Of course Dean does. “It was an Abiku.”

“They killed it?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

That evening, Sam has Dean and Mary over for dinner, so that they can meet his girlfriend. Since Mary is already here, the moment couldn’t be better. Sure, Dean doesn’t feel fit yet, but he is curious about Val and he knows that he needs a distraction.

So there’s a family dinner. The girl seems to be cool. She isn’t overly cute and giggly. She is pretty, witty and interested without being nosy. Mary likes her. Dean likes her. But then again, he doesn’t really take part in the conversation, he just doesn’t feel like it. Socializing is a tiresome thing these days.

He observes the couple kissing occasionally, touching lightly when they think nobody will see. They look at each other with a lot of affection. Maybe it’s already love? But it’s not as if Dean can tell, since he sucks at romantic stuff.

Dean is happy for his brother. He really is. But still, it hurts because he feels that something’s missing in his own life. Something he thought he’d have when he quit hunting.

But that something fucked off to who fucking knows where. Dean is still alone.

The smile he plasters on his face when he leaves late that night is fake, and it hurts. Even the fact that Mary comes home with him, crashing one more night in Dean’s spare bedroom, isn’t soothing this time.

Dean stares at his dead phone. He hasn’t charged either of his phones in days, since he’s been occupied with his self-pity. Sighing to himself, he plugs the charger in and switches his private phone on again. After a minute, the messages and calls start to pop onto his screen. Mary, Sam, _Cas…_

There are several calls from Castiel. Just one message. Cas hasn’t texted him in months. With suddenly shaking hands, Dean opens it after staring at the notification for several minutes.

**[Castiel, 8/14, 7:22 p.m.]:_ Dean, please tell me that you are fine. Please._**

Dean stares at the words. Castiel sounds concerned. Why now? He hasn’t been concerned about Dean since he left the bunker. Sam must’ve said something embarrassing about Dean. Something about his stupid breakdown.

Dean looks at the date. Today’s August 16th. So the message is two days old.

Dean swallows, takes a deep breath, then dials Castiel’s number. He knows it by heart even if he hasn’t used it in months. When Castiel had left, he’d made it clear that _he _was the one that would call. Since he needed his _time and space._ Whatever.

Dean listens to the beeping sound blaring into his right ear. His hands are a bit sweaty, because he’s afraid that Castiel will be mad at him. But there’s no point in keeping on living this way, right? Something has to change.

Suddenly, Castiel is on the phone. “Dean? Are you okay?” He sounds alert.

“Yes, ‘m fine…,” he says, without even recognizing that he’s lying.

“Is everything okay? You haven’t answered your phone recently.” It seems like Castiel is still worried. That’s better than disappointed or angry, which Dean was expecting since he called Cas, not the other way around_—_a clear violation of the deal they made.

“I… Cas, I lied.” Dean clears his throat. It’s hard to get those words out. “I’m not fine. I… I need to see you. Like right the fuck now.” Hell, more like _last month_, but hey, he doesn’t want Castiel to freak out. Dean’s voice trembles and he hates it. It’s already hard enough to admit to himself that he’s gotten weak since the incident with Michael. Something had shifted inside him, he knows that. He gets sentimental and sad and grumpy often, but he doesn’t want the others to know about his fucked up mental state.

There is silence in which he hears Castiel breathing. Seems like the guy is at least thinking about his request and hasn’t outright rejected him. Yet.

“Okay. I’ll text you the address. Come whenever you want.”

There’s immediate relief flooding through Dean’s system. He doesn’t question Cas’s choice, but he’s sure that his brother has said something to Castiel about Dean’s condition.

But right now he couldn’t care less.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean takes off the next day after briefly talking to Sam and Mary. They seem to be positive about the whole thing, and relieved that Castiel finally wants to meet at least one of them.

Sam claps Dean on the shoulder a lot and Mary keeps saying that everything will be fine. Even though Dean doesn’t want to admit it, it’s nice to see how much they care about him. He can tell that they just want him to reconnect with Cas.

Since Dean hasn’t driven in weeks, he gets up early to go over the Impala, so she’s safe and ready for the drive. Cas had texted him the address right after their phone call. He now lives in Avon, Colorado, which is a nine-hour drive from the suburb Dean’s living in, called Derby. He’ll make it in one day, with at least two breaks on the way. He’s in a hurry, not able to wait any longer. There’s a weird feeling inside him, and Dean’s not sure if he’s ever felt like this. It makes him restless and increases the need to go see Cas.

He can’t wait to get to Avon, but at the same time, he’s afraid of meeting Cas there, because he doesn’t know what’s waiting for him. Did Cas change a lot? Is he going to say goodbye to Dean for good? Is he fucked up? Is he okay? Is he going back to Heaven? Does he have problems and need the Winchesters’ help? There’s just so fucking much that Dean doesn’t know because Cas wouldn’t really talk to him, and up to now things haven’t exactly worked out well for Dean. So yeah, he’s a little apprehensive. And he wishes he wasn’t alone in this.

He feels freakin’ alone—it’s not new—but ever since Michael possessed him, it’s weighing down on him even more. A lot weighs down on Dean, now. It seems like Michael took away the last bits of Dean’s strength, and changed something deep inside him. He’s easily depressed now, and he can’t bear the loneliness anymore—which probably increased his need to finally see Cas.

He hopes that, for a moment, he won’t feel so lonely. Maybe Cas’ presence will help, if only for a few days. And, maybe, hopefully, he’ll see that Cas is just fine. He hopes that he’ll be able to leave Avon in good conscience.

Dean probably should be worried about his slightly changed mental state, about his weakness, but he can’t find it in him to care. The damage is done. Nobody can help Dean, and Michael is dead. At least something good had happened.

Dean blinks, trying to refocus on Cas while he begins to change Baby’s oil.

_“I’m living in the woods, so there is no street for your car leading to my home. However, I will meet you at the address that I’m going to send you. We will have to walk from there on. It won’t be a long walk,”_ Castiel had said on the phone.

Now Dean is pictureing Cas as a hermit, living all secluded out in the woods. He can’t blame the guy. Cas had witnessed the bad side of humankind, and it wasn’t like the angels had treated him well, either. He obviously needed a break from everyone. Dean understands that, but he misses Castiel. He’s tried to not be selfish, but now he’s reached his limit.

So he’s going to visit, even if it means forcing himself on Cas. Dean can’t take it anymore.

***.*.***

After three hours of driving on the interstate, Dean’s heart begins to pound in his chest and the first doubts start creeping into his mind. He takes deep breaths, gripping the wheel with sweaty hands.

It’s warm and sticky inside the car, even with the windows open.

Why is he afraid of meeting Cas? The angel agreed to see him, so he probably won’t send Dean away again. At least not right away, he hopes…

Yeah, maybe that’s the problem: he doesn’t know how long he’s going to be allowed to stay. He doesn’t even know what Castiel’s problem is. Dean’s never been allowed to visit him, but why not? It hurts.

Dean wonders what Castiel has been up to. What do angels do when they don’t want to return to Heaven? When they don’t heal humans to earn money, like that Jo chick? Especially when Castiel has to hide from the angels, since he never can be sure if some of them want to torture or kill him again for some stupid reason.

So, is there much left that Castiel can do? When the angel had left the bunker—right before Sam and Dean had moved out—they had argued a lot. Sam and Dean had wanted Castiel to stay with them in Kansas. But in hindsight, Dean figures that the angel had some kind of a midlife crisis. He wanted to find himself or some shit. Dean hopes that this phase is over now. He wants Castiel back at his side, god dammit. He pictures the angel living in a house down the road in Derby, so Dean can annoy him every other day just like Sam does to him. That’d be nice. So nice, Dean’s pretty sure it will never happen. Good things don’t happen to a Winchester.

He grips the steering wheel tighter—his knuckles turning white—as he tries to push down the depressing thoughts. It’s difficult, so he cranks up the music and sings along to AC/DC. That always helps.

***.*.***

After two pit stops, he finally reaches Avon. He leaves I-70 and drives through the town. It’s small and quiet, surrounded by mountains. After a short drive along Eagle River, he turns onto an old, ratty road that leads into the woods. He searches for a safe parking spot, he won’t be able to sleep tonight if he just abandons her on the side of the road. Baby is still precious to him, and his obsession probably won’t ever stop.

To his surprise, Cas is standing at the edge of the woods. Dean’s heart threatens to leap out of his chest.

Fuck. Cas.

First, he’d thought it’s just a stranger because he’s wearing casual clothes. It catches Dean off guard because he’d expected to see Cas with his signature trench-coat. But no, it’s just a long-sleeve shirt.

Dean swallows and stops the car in front of him.

“Cas?”

The angel comes closer. “Hello, Dean.” Dean feels warmth spread in his chest, fighting the upcoming anxiety. “I have a garage nearby where you can park your car.”

Surprised, Dean nods. A garage?

Cas begins to jog, leading the way, and Dean follows him slowly. It’s not far away, and a minute later Dean has to fight back a snort, since the “garage” turns out to be more like a shelter made of wood. It looks sturdy, though, and it’s in a quiet place at the edge of the woods. He pulls into the space and kills the engine.

Cas takes a large tarpaulin that’s been neatly folded at the side of the shelter. “We can put this onto Baby, if that’s okay.”

Dean nods his agreement. “Yeah, thanks.” He helps Cas cover Baby, then they retreat and Castiel pulls the gate shut.

The first thing Dean notices is the sound of cicadas. It’s nice, calming. But it also makes him aware of the silence between him and Castiel.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he blurts out as he looks at Cas, whose dark hair is slightly longer now. His eyes are still that stunning shade of sparkling blue, and a five o’clock stubble covers the chiseled jawline.Cas is now wearing blue jeans and a long-sleeve shirt in burgundy. It’s unusual to see him like this, but he looks good.

Cas smiles softly. “You grew a beard,” he points out and Dean stills. Oh fuck, he forgot to shave. He was so busy fixing Baby and getting ready for the drive that he hadn’t spared a single thought about how he looked. “I like it,” Castiel adds, but then tilts his head and his brows furrow. Since Dean senses what the angel is about to say—something about how tired he looks— he does what he wanted to do in the first place before he got distracted by Cas’ appearance.

He steps forward and wraps his arms around the man he’s missed so much. The hug is bone crushing. Dean hears Castiel gasping for breath, but the angel doesn’t complain. Instead, Castiel raises his arms and hugs him back tightly.

“Dean…” He sounds pleased. Happy, even. Something like that. Dean’s heart rate picks up again at that thought. Thank fuck that Cas isn’t pissed at him for hugging him without permission.

Eventually he lets go of Cas. “Sorry, it’s just good to see you,” he mumbles, sounding a little embarrassed.

The angel squeezes Dean’s arm gently. “It’s good to see you, too.” He smiles and withdraws his hand before turning around. “Let’s go. I will show you the way.”

They talk about little things then, Cas opting for safe topics.

“How was the drive to Avon?” Cas asks, polite but earnest.

“It was okay. It’s about nine hours from Derby to Avon and I’m not used to these long drives anymore…”

“I take it you are tired?”

Dean smiles weakly. “Yeah, a bit. These past few months, I’ve rarely taken Baby for long drives. Just to Wichita for groceries… Once I made a little road trip through Kansas, nothing fancy.”

“Don’t you miss it?” Cas asks quietly. “The open road?”

Dean considers this. “Yeah, at first. But not so much anymore. I think I got accustomed to…uh…not hunting and driving all the time.”

Cas hums, but doesn’t comment, so Dean looks around. The sun is setting fast and very soon it’ll be dark.

They follow a narrow path surrounded by lots of big trees, their leaves rustling in the wind. “You, uh…do you feel safe here?” He sure doesn’t. The upcoming darkness and the woods are starting to freak him out already.

But Cas smiles at him reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Dean. It’s not far from here. We’ll be at the cabin before it’s fully dark.”

cabin?! “Are you…living in a run-down cabin? What do I have to expect?”

Cas’ smile widens, showing his amusement. “Three minutes, Dean. Then you can see for yourself.”

Maybe not a run-down cabin in the woods, then. He doesn’t want to end up like all those teenagers in horror movies that visit old houses in weird, remote places.

“How are Sam and Mary?” Cas asks, changing the topic.

“They’re great, really. Mom’s still hunting but swinging by sometimes, talking about the things she killed. She’s awesome, man. Still kicking ass.” He grins. He’s freaking proud of that woman.

“I bet,” Cas agrees.

“And Sam has a girlfriend now.”

“Really?” Cas’ face lights up. “What’s her name? Do you like her?”

“Name’s Valerie. She’s cool, I guess. Met her just once so far for a family dinner with Mom. We like her.”

“That’s good to hear. You must be happy for him.”

“Oh yeah, I am.” Dean smiles at Cas. “And she’s cool with Sully, so I guess she’s perfect for Sammy. We already teamed up teasing him.”

Cas chuckles. “Now I understand why you approved of her so quickly.”

Dean laughs and shrugs. “I just hope she’s it for him. Or that she’s at least not some kind of monster. Sammy’s got a bad track record…” Oh yeah, Dean will never be able to forget Ruby or Madison, for example. Sam had even liked Meg at the very beginning. Ugh.

Castiel doesn’t reply, there is only a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Dean glances over his shoulder. It’s dark now and he doesn’t see much besides the shapes of bushes and trees. That should freak him out since he hates the dark, but he feels okay. For now. Maybe it’s Castiel’s calming presence?

When he looks ahead again, he notices a small light that has appeared. “We are almost there,” Castiel says, gesturing towards its direction. “I left the outdoor lights on.”

_Thank god._

Although Dean isn’t panicking, he feels really uncomfortable in these woods. He should’ve left earlier, he thinks. But hey, Castiel is here with his angel powers, so there’s not much that can happen, huh?

When they reach the cabin, Dean is definitely surprised and maybe also a little bit relieved. It’s a nice house, not the shack that he anticipated. “Awesome,” he mumbles with wide eyes as he looks at the cabin.

It’s made of a light shade of wooden logs. The windows are large and clean, there are some flowers on the neat porch. Next to them there’s a small table with a wooden rocking chair on its right side and a cool, beige hammock chair with a cushion on the left side. It looks cozy as fuck.

Although two outdoor lights to the left and right of the door are lighting up the surroundings, there isn’t much more that Dean can see. He’s curious to see what the cabin looks like in daylight.

Castiel waits patiently for Dean to take it all in and smiles. “Let’s go inside. I hope you will like it here, too.”

Dean follows him inside, and they step directly into the spacious living room. Compared to Dean’s rather messy house, this is amazing. Neat, but comfy. There’s love and life in the furniture and in the walls, Dean thinks.

It’s a rustic living room with a rough pine fireplace which isn’t in use yet. In front of it there are two large, grey sofas with fluffy cushions, and between them stands a dark wooden coffee table. Marveling, Dean follows Castiel into the kitchen—which is small, but two people easily fit in here—and it’s well-appointed and convenient.

All over the rooms are warm lights which make Castiel’s home cozy. “I like it here. It’s nice,” Dean says after Castiel has shown him the bathroom, which is furnished with a bathtub, a large mirror, and some minor amenities.

Castiel shoots him a proud grin. “Wait for the bedroom,” he says as they leave the bathroom. Dean fights a blush. What the hell? Castiel wants to show him his bedroom?!

“Uh… That’s not necessary,” he mumbles.

Castiel furrows his brows. “Why not? You should know where you’re going to sleep, right?”

Dean’s eyes widen at that reply. “Oh, you won’t use it? Or do you have a spare bedroom?”

Castiel laughs. “I never understood why humans make such a big fuss about bedrooms and sleeping arrangements. Even now…” He trails off, squinting, and then clears his throat as he opens another door. “Dean, it’s fine. Take my bedroom.”

Dean just nods. Well, Cas is an angel after all, and they don’t sleep. So actually, Dean doesn’t need to bother, right? Actually, it’s kind of weird that Castiel even has a bedroom at all.

The question that Dean wants to ask his best friend dies on his tongue as he takes in the bedroom. His eyes widen comically. “Cas…what the hell?” he croaks as he looks around.

Directly to their right is a king-size bed with cushions and blankets in natural shades like white, mist grey, taupe and driftwood. The floor is made of dark wood, but what really catches Dean’s eye are the walls: two of them are floor-to-ceiling glass walls which establish a connection with nature. This bedroom suits Cas, he thinks. A large outside deck is connected to the room via a sliding door set into one of the glass walls.

Cas looks at him with a satisfied smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “I take it you like this room?”

“How did you… I mean… This is a great place and you deserve it. I just wonder how you were able to afford this?”

Cas’ smile turns warm and soft. “I didn’t buy this place, Dean. And I didn’t build it myself from scratch.” He sighs. “It’s a story for another day.”

“Uhm, okay, but…nobody died in here and you just snatched away the house?”

Cas laughs quietly at that. “No. Nobody died here, as far as I know. You can put your bags in here,” he offers. “Are you hungry?”

Dean’s eyes light up as he puts down his bags. “Yeah, I am!”

Motivated, he follows Cas back to the kitchen. “Since I wasn’t sure when you would arrive today, I prepared some Mac and Cheese at noon. Is that okay?”

“Hell yeah, it’s more than okay.”

Turns out it’s more of a Bacon Mac and Cheese Casserole, and Dean loves it. “Cas, since when can you cook this well?” He swallows his bite and looks at Castiel with furrowed brows. “Since when do you cook at all?”

Cas shrugs. “I have a lot of time.”

“So, how do you check if the seasoning’s right and all that stuff? Doesn’t it taste like molecules to you?”

“I can taste now, Dean.”

Dean’s eyebrows rise. “Yeah? How come?”

One corner of Castiel’s mouth twitches. “That’s another story for another day,” is the only thing he says.

Dean sighs and takes a sip from his beer. It’s almost empty.

Castiel sits opposite of him at the small kitchen island. He hasn’t eaten anything. Probably isn’t hungry. Angels.

“There’s a lot you’re not telling me, Cas,” Dean finally says as he puts down his empty bottle.

“Well…” Castiel smiles softly at that. “How have you been lately, Dean? You said you weren’t fine. Do you want to elaborate?”

Dean stares at him, and Cas stares right back without adding anything. _His eyes are a nice shade of blue._

Eventually, Dean gets up from his chair and takes his dirty dish. “Nah,” he dismisses the topic. He carefully washes the plate before he turns to Castiel. “I’m fine now,” he adds while he dries his hands.

The angel raises his eyebrows. “Are you, now?” He doesn’t sound convinced.

Dean smiles because he didn’t lie. He feels better now that he’s with Cas. “Seeing you after all these months…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, just shrugs, but Castiel understands anyway.

“It would make me happy if my company helps you.”

“Sure, Cas.” Okay, the situation is slowly changing into a chick-flick. “I think I’m gonna turn in early today.” It’s only around eight, but he’s beat after that long drive.

“Of course, Dean. I have already prepared everything for you, so go ahead.”

“Thanks, man.”

Dean gets his clothes for sleeping, goes to brush his teeth and takes a leak, before he searches for Cas. The angel is in the spacious living room, sitting on one of the sofas and reading a book. “So, uh…what will you do during the night?”

For a brief moment, Castiel’s eyes narrow in confusion, then they wander to the couch standing opposite from him. “I sleep, Dean. It grew on me.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “It did, huh…” He thinks it’s strange, but doesn’t question it. “Okay, well, then I hope it’s okay that I’m taking the comfy bed…”

“It’s fine, Dean,” Castiel says with a small smile on his face. “Is there anything you need?”

“No, thanks.” Dean waves at him, feeling weird but shy at the same time. “G’night.”

“Good night, Dean. Sleep well.”

He retreats into the bedroom, thinking about the awkwardness that seems to have settled between Castiel and him. It worries him, and at this stage—when he doesn’t know yet what the surroundings of the cabin look like—he doesn’t feel that comfortable in a room that’s mostly made of glass. He feels exposed to whatever is creeping around out there, and the situation with Cas doesn’t help to put Dean at ease.

He takes a deep breath and sits down on the bed. Maybe it’s better to leave the small lamp that’s standing on the nightstand switched on. Yeah, Dean Winchester is a little chickenshit now.

As he takes in the bedroom once again, he notices that there isn’t much furniture here. Just the bed, the nightstand, a small cabinet for clothes, and a small shelf which is overflowing with books.

But rather than scanning through them, he slides under the cool covers of Castiel’s bed. It feels wrong to lie here. Kind of intimate. The light next to him gives off a soft, warm glow. It’s comforting, and when he closes his eyes, avoiding the urge to risk a glance outside, this—being here—is okay.

Dean keeps his eyes closed while the covers warm up, thanks to his body heat. He’s beat, yeah, but he doesn’t fall asleep easily. He never does, since _Michael_ happened. Dean dreads the bad dreams that come with sleep every night. He has no other choice than to sleep. He knows that, but still, it sucks. Back in the spring, he tried to not sleep—or at least not sleep too much, too deep—but it didn’t do him any good, either. He couldn’t concentrate on work and just felt miserable. And so he eventually tried to man up again.

And that’s what he does this evening, too. He tries to think of nice things to ease himself into sleep. Sam and Sully, Mary… Castiel. And now that Dean’s at Castiel’s place, it feels even better to think about him before falling asleep. For once, there’s no pang in his chest.

***.*.***

The stream of blood that shoots from the girl’s throat is obscene. Dean can’t stop watching it, how it covers his hands, his forearms, dripping onto the concrete floor.

“What a mess,” he hears someone say, but as he looks around, there’s nobody there.

And then he realizes what’s wrong here. That girl is dead. She has been killed. _Her blood is all over him. _And Dean doesn’t find the strength in himself to care.

_“That’s right, Dean. That’s right. You don’t care. You don’t feel sorry for her. You liked it.”_

“Liked what?”

_“Slitting her throat… Yes. **We** did that.”_

Yeah, right. Dean has done that to her. It’s been his own hands.

He looks around the room once more. There are bodies lying on the concrete floor. Men and women, all bloody and pale. Lifeless. Why are they here? Why did he kill them…?

Dean’s body moves to the exit of the room. _“We have some more work to do, Dean. Remember who we finally captured? They got in our way, so we had to do something about that. I hope this won’t worsen our friendship. I’d like you to think about it as a gift.”_

Dean’s heart rate picks up. He has a bad feeling about this. Michael giving him gifts…? It’ll be another thing to torture him.

Slowly Dean’s body opens another metal door.

There, tied to chains hanging off the ceilings, are Sam and Cas. Bare-chested, something bloody carved into their skin, but alive. Awake, even. They stare right back at him, wide eyed. Hurt. _Afraid._

Dean is horrified_. _He feels as if he can’t breathe. He can’t grasp the meaning of all of this. _He can’t. He doesn’t want to._

Slowly, Dean remembers. He captured them himself, his own family. He broke into their motel room while they had been out for a hunt. It had been messy. The guys had fought a lot. But Dean had won. Michael had won.

Now his family is here. _“Only your mother is missing, right? We’ll get her, too,”_ Michael promises. _“For now be a good boy, Dean. Do your job. Your family definitely knows some things that might come in handy. We just have to coax it out of them.”_ The voice is whispering now_. “Remember? You’re good at that. So good.”_ Dean’s body takes a step closer and reaches for the table next to him, where several knives and other instruments are spread.

“No.” He can’t hurt them. He would never do that, so he fights against Michael in his own body.

Michael doesn’t reply but Dean feels the anger of the archangel. Impatience. Determination. A feeling that consists of one cold promise: **_“You will.”_**

The next thing Dean is aware of is Cas’ breathy and pained groans, and occasional high-pitched screams. Cas’ warm blood caressing his own hands.

_“Dean!”_

***.*.***

“Dean!”

He jolts in bed, arms flailing. One of them hits something warm and solid as Dean opens his eyes. Sitting straight up, heart pounding wildly in his chest, he stares at Castiel, who sits next to him on the edge of the bed. The angel is wincing as he rubs his sternum..

“Jesus, Cas…” Dean takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Did I hurt you? I hit you, right?” His eyes widen. Oh fuck, he hit Cas. Shit.

Cas smiles sadly. “It’s okay, Dean. Don’t worry. It seems like you had a nightmare and I… I wanted to help,” he says quietly. “I knew the risks of waking you up.” Castiel _winks_ at that, which takes Dean’s breath away. He’s never seen Castiel wink before. What the hell? It distracts him for a second.

“Uh…yeah…” He rubs his neck. “Thanks…” Tired, he scoots up a little and leans back at the headboard of the bed. “I’m sorry, Cas. I didn’t wanna wake you up or hit you.”

“I know, Dean. Like I said, it’s okay,” Castiel reassures him. “Do you want some water?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, I’m fine...” Just then he notices that the small lamp on the nightstand is still switched on. If Castiel noticed that Dean slept with the freakin’ light on like he’s a child, then he doesn’t comment on it. _Thank god. _Dean already feels embarrassed enough. He actually doesn’t want to know what exactly led Castiel into his room. Had Dean been shouting…?

The angel nods and stands up. “Will you be able to go back to sleep?”

Dean runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I think so.” He watches Castiel as he walks to the door. “And thanks. For, uh…looking after me.”

The other man turns his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Of course, Dean. Sleep well.”

As Castiel closes the door, Dean could swear he hears the angel sigh deeply. He immediately kind of misses him at his side. His warmth, his presence… It’s soothing.

Dean isn’t sure if Castiel will want to talk in the morning. About his nightmares, his general well-being. He hopes that Cas won’t ask, because he really, really doesn’t want to talk about it. Especially not about the dreams. Because these aren’t just dreams, made up by his trauma-wrecked brain.

They are painfully real memories.


	3. Chapter 3

Slowly, Dean blinks his eyes open and stares out of the big windows on the opposite side of the bed as his thoughts immediately wander to Cas.

There are so many questions which have bothered Dean over all these months since Cas left them in order to “find himself” or whatever. Things he wanted to ask the angel but never dared to, because Cas had made it clear that he would set the pace. He would call Dean when he wanted, would talk about the things he liked. There had been no point in asking Cas anything, not as long as he wanted to avoid losing Cas completely. Pushing the guy hadn’t been an option.

But what about now? Cas has welcomed him here. Sure, Dean had more or less invited himself in, but Cas hadn’t objected. He seems to be okay with Dean being here in his cabin. But then again, Dean suspects that Sam had talked to Cas. Maybe his brother had pushed the angel to finally meet with Dean?

Suddenly, Dean feels sick to his stomach. Of course the thought had occurred to him before, but he’d managed to push it down. And that’s what he’s gonna do again, right now.

He’s more or less well-rested, despite the nightly incident, and sighing to himself, he leaves the bed. It’s probably time to face Cas. To talk. Whatever.

Before Dean leaves the bedroom, his gaze is drawn to the deck outside. The sun already shines brightly, and luckily not directly into the room. Dean goes to the sliding door to open it and he’s greeted by the mild breeze of a late summer morning. As expected for a cabin in the woods, there are lots of tall trees around him. Dean doesn’t discover anything special, but still, there’s a light feeling in his chest as he stands out here on the deck, gazing at the sky. It’s quiet, only a few birds are chirping and the breeze rustles the leaves of the trees. The sky’s blue and, all in all, it’s nice. The forest doesn’t scare him off like it did yesterday, when it had been dark.

Remembering that he still has to text Sam, he goes back inside and grabs his phone from the nightstand. There’s already a message from his brother, dated yesterday when he had still been on the road.

Dean frowns as he attempts to answer the message. It seems like there’s no reception. “Of course,” he mutters to himself. “Freakin’ forest…” Nevertheless, he types the message and hits send. Nothing happens. He sighs. Hopefully, the message will be delivered soon, otherwise Sam will freak out. Dean hasn’t given him Castiel’s address, but his brother knows that Cas lives in Colorado. Sam would surely find a way to Dean, if necessary.

When Dean leaves the bedroom five minutes later, Cas isn’t in the living room. Maybe he’s outside doing errands, or he’s in the bathroom. Since Dean’s headed to the latter anyway, he checks it out—no Cas in the bathroom. He feels slightly unsettled since he doesn’t know where his friend is, but he decides to postpone his panic until after the shower.

Cas seems to not only have started sleeping and tasting, but also showering: When Dean stands in the bathtub, he spots several shampoos and shower gels; one of them even seems to be homemade. Hmm.

After he’s dressed, Dean saunters into the kitchen, just in time to see Cas stepping into the cabin through the back door.

“Good morning, Dean.” Cas rakes his eyes over him. “You look well rested.”

Dean only nods, distracted by Cas’ human looks. He’s dressed in black sweatpants and a black v-neck t-shirt, and he’s barefoot. Cas looks relaxed. He looks good. Very good. _Hot._

“Where have you been?” Dean wants to know.

“I just looked after my garden to see if there was anything that needs to be taken care of.” He gives Dean an excited look. “I can show you around later, after we’ve had breakfast,” Cas suggests while busying himself with the coffee machine. “But first, coffee.”

Dean smiles at that. “What, you got addicted to coffee?” To his surprise, he sees Cas flinch slightly.

“Well, it’s a guilty pleasure.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Dean grins, before he remembers the inner turmoil he had before. “Uhm, Cas… Is it really okay that I stay here for two or three days?”

He hadn’t thought about it before, and Cas never mentioned how long Dean could stay. But he figures it won’t be many days, since Cas hasn’t wanted him here for months.

Cas sighs and lifts his gaze from the steaming coffee machine to stare at Dean, who’s still standing awkwardly in the door frame. “Yes, of course. It’s fine. If it hadn’t felt right, I wouldn’t have agreed to your visit.”

Dean shifts on his feet. “Yeah, it’s just… I don’t want you to feel forced. I guess Sammy called you and told you…some shit. About me.”

“No, Dean, Sam didn’t tell me anything. We spoke to each other, yes. But he didn’t tell me anything about the reason that you came here.”

Dean blinks. Huh… Cas has lied to him before. But that was ages ago. This time, he feels like the angel is telling the truth.

Dean clears his throat and nods. “Okay, then… Let me help you with breakfast.” Changing the topic is always a good thing.

Cas accepts it with an easy smile. “How do you feel about bacon and eggs?”

***.*.***

It feels weird to see Cas being so domestic. Usually the angel would just stand or sit nearby, observing the brothers or talking, while Dean cooked or cleaned. But he never made breakfast, he never tended to plants, didn’t drink coffee, or wipe down counters.

Yet here he is, washing the dishes they used for their breakfast. While Dean puts everything away, he can’t help but stare. It’s all new. Cas in these casual clothes, doing things in a kitchen… It’s almost like he’s human.

“What happened to your trench coat?” Dean blurts out.

Cas freezes for a second, then looks at Dean. “It’s in my closet.” He shrugs and hands Dean the last cleaned plate. “I don’t feel like wearing it these days. After a decade of wearing it, I felt a need for change.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Cas squints at him. “You don’t like it,” he states.

_Oh, believe me, I frikkin’ do. _Because really, this new, normal look suits Cas well.

Dean forces a smile on his face that’s hopefully casual. “I like it. I like your trench coat but I also like the, uh…new you.” _Those black clothes look good on you._

Dean clears his throat. “So, your garden?” He definitely needs a distraction. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to come see Cas after all these months. His brain kind of gets stuck on _how good Cas looks_ way too often.

Before Sam, Dean and Cas had decided to quit hunting, there never had been time for Dean to think about Cas _that way._ For him, the angel had been like a brother, any other feelings had been pushed down. But now he’s had plenty of time to think. About his life, his goals, about Cas. And Dean has missed Cas. It feels good to be here, near him, even if his thoughts scare him sometimes. There’s something stirring in his gut, something warm and pleasant.

He’s distracted by Cas’ face lighting up. “Yes, let’s go outside.” He gestures towards the back door and opens it. Dean follows him onto the porch, a confused look dawning on his face as he takes the few stairs down and enters the yard.

“Cas, what the fuck is happening here?”

Dean doesn’t know a lot about fancy gardens or about gardening, but something feels off here. He couldn’t see it last night when he had arrived since it had been dark, but now he can take in the surroundings of the cabin.

Everything’s just _so_ _much._ Green, thick, healthy. Dean can’t fully comprehend or describe what he’s seeing. There are lots of fruit and vegetable patches. Tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers, strawberries, raspberries and other stuff that he can’t recognize are growing like they want to win a competition. And they’re all growing at the same time which makes Dean worried, because, is that even possible for all these different crops? Don’t they have different seasons or something?

Castiel’s garden is rich and alive. In the tall and very green trees birds are chirping so happily they’re on the verge of being annoying.

Cas just smiles and leads Dean around the house to the front. There are lots of flowerbeds. Tulips and roses in different colors, also sunflowers. At either side of the cabin are herbs and bushes growing that he doesn’t even know the name of. All that comes out of Dean’s mouth is a confused, “Um… That must be a lot of work.” Dean really _is _impressed, and yeah, Cas is doing a lot of things here for sure, because otherwise it wouldn’t look so _healthy _and _alive._

The angel smiles knowingly as he waves Dean onto the front porch of the cabin. “The harvest is the most time-consuming task. Other than that, I don’t have to do that much.”

“Hmm… Is there a special fertilizer you use then? I mean, nothing looks like it’s about to wither. Every bush and plant is growing something…” Is this even a normal garden?

Cas smiles softly at that. “Yes, there’s a special fertilizer.” He nods absently to himself, gazing at the flowers. “Yes, something special…”

Dean raises his eyebrows in alarm. “What is it? Are you using horse shit? Your own pee? Please say no.” Cas looks startled, then opens his mouth to respond, but Dean interrupts him, distracted by another thought that occurs to him. “Wait… Angels don’t pee, right? Uh, no, don’t answer that.”

As Cas’ mouth clicks shut, Dean looks around the porch, taking in the table and the chairs again. Now, in the daylight, he sees something else. “Why is there a doghouse? Do you have a dog?” Please, no. Sully’s already enough of a dog in his life. He doesn’t need another hellhound-like creature that scares the shit outta him.

A fond smile tugs at Cas’ chapped lips, which is another odd thing about the angel because Dean has never seen Cas smile that way. The angel remains kind of stoic most of the time. Has he ever seen him genuinely _smile_? Dean swallows at that thought. What kind of a friend is he, actually, obviously never having paid attention to that?!

“No, I do not own a dog. There is a cat that comes over sometimes.” The fondness in Cas’ voice is obvious.

“Huh? It just started showing up, or what?” Dean asks and Cas nods.

“Yes, a few weeks ago, she was suddenly sitting on the porch. I was about to leave,” Cas tells him. “When I opened the door, she just came in and looked at me expectantly.” He sighs, his eyes focused on nothing. “There were some interesting days as I tried to figure out what she wanted from me. She kept coming back, so I guess I did something right. Sometimes she also sleeps in the cabin, but when she comes too late at night, I’m asleep and can’t open the door for her. So I made this.” He gestures at the wooden little house. “Every couple of weeks I find her sleeping in there.” Cas eyes Dean. “You are allergic to cats, if I remember correctly?”

Dean nods. “Yeah… Well, since we’re already on the topic: can’t you just…heal it? Mojo it away?”

Cas’ smile grows sad. “No, I can’t. I’m sorry, Dean.”

He just shrugs. “No problem.” It doesn’t really bother him since he’s rarely around cats. And he already figured that Cas can’t heal the allergy. It’s not exactly a wound or something. It’s obviously not in the divine repertoire.

Dean turns around again, facing the small path that leads to the porch they’re standing on, flowers scattered across the yard. “So, uh… You’re into gardening and pets now?” Is that what the angel was doing all those months? Relaxing here?

For long seconds, Cas just stares at him. He feels the pressure of the intense gaze, but doesn’t turn to face him. Instead he chooses to look at all the colorful flowers.

“Something like that,” Cas says finally. “It’s relaxing. And since I like the idea of being self-sufficient, I make use of all these vegetables and herbs. I make my own tea, I can use my own vegetables for cooking…”

“Huh…” Dean raises his eyebrows and he’s a little reminded of the Castiel from the apocalypse 2014 shit show that Zachariah once transported him into. While that universe had given him the creeps, and that Castiel had been slightly unnerving, _this _Castiel seems to be okay. And so Dean is okay with him. “Cool,” he manages to add and then nibbles at his lower lip. “And that’s all you’ve done in the past months?” His tone sounds a little accusing, he’s aware of that. The words though are still nicer than what’s actually in his mind.

At Dean’s question, Cas’ eyes narrow a little, the small smile fading. “No. There’s more that happened. There’s more that I have been up to…”

Silence follows as Dean hopes that Cas will tell him some more about it. But the angel seems to be hesitant. “Care to elaborate?” Dean finally asks.

Cas sighs and goes back inside the cabin. Dean follows. “I am a writer now.” Dean’s eyes widen in surprise. “More of a journalist, actually. I write for some magazines and also for an online blog.” He smiles. “It appears that the knowledge that I gathered over all those millennia is quite helpful for some humans.”

Stunned, Dean stares at Cas. The thought of him being a writer is more than weird. It has never occurred to Dean. Cas has always been a warrior. A soldier. Maybe he read some books in order to help researching when a case went sideways, but writing himself?!

“How did you…? What…?” Dean stammers. “I don’t understand. Why do that?”

There is something hard in Cas’ eyes now. “Because I am able to, Dean. Besides, I need the money.”

“You do?” Dean’s eyebrow is still meeting his hairline. “Cas, you’re an angel. You never needed money before. Why now? Why do you need a _job_?”

Of course, Sam and Dean had to get jobs eventually. They needed a roof over their heads, they needed food, water, warmth. The whole nine. But Cas was a completely different story.

Cas stares at the floor and sighs deeply. In Dean’s ears, it sounds almost painful.

“Dean, what else should I do? That’s why I…” He stops and drags a hand over his face.

“Yeah, that’s why you left us behind. Because there was ‘something you had to do,’ or whatever. You never told me. You gonna do that now?” Dean’s aware of how hurt he sounds.

“No.” He seems distant all of a sudden. “Not now…” Cas stares into his eyes for a brief second, then goes to the large couch in the living room. There are no signs remaining of him having spent the night on either of them. “I need to work now. I’m sorry. I have to write a bit, since there’s a deadline coming up in a few days.” He sounds stressed and suddenly, Dean doesn’t feel welcome here any longer.

He watches Cas grabbing a laptop and sitting down on the couch, then he clears his throat. “Yeah, okay… I’ll get out of your hair and take a look around town, or something.”

Cas raises his head and gives him a soft look. “Thank you. I’ll see you later.” Still, his voice sounds tight. Dean just nods and grabs a few things in the bedroom before he heads out.

As he crosses the green yard, he realizes that he doesn’t remember the way back to his car. Sighing silently, he decides to follow the power lines running back to town. It’s probably a good start.

The woods are less frightening in the daylight. The trees are all tall and green, the crowns so rich that it’s hard to see the blue sky. Dean relaxes a bit as he starts to hear the sound of cars in the distance. He must be close to the road.

He casts a glance at his phone. No new messages. Frowning, he opens the phone and sees that his message to Sam still hasn’t been sent. Fuck. Hopefully there will be better reception in the heart of town.

Five minutes later, Dean arrives at the shelter. His baby’s still there, and he breathes a sigh of relief. He contemplates driving into town with her but ultimately decides against it. Walking will do him good, clear his head. Sam would be proud of him. Dean hopes the center of town isn’t too far away—that it’s within walking distance—but Sam had done some research before Dean left Derby, and he’d mentioned that it’s just a small town. If he’s wrong, well, then Dean will have several hours away from Cas’ confusing behavior.

After he’s made sure that Baby’s all good, he heads west, his gun tucked safely into the back of his pants. He never leaves without it; it’s impossible for him. Even if he’s not hunting anymore, he needs his gun to feel at least somewhat safe. And with Castiel living in the forests of Colorado, he actually needs two guns to feel okay.

***.*.***

It’s late afternoon when Dean comes back to the cabin.

He’d been walking around town for a while until he’d found a park with a beautiful lake. He’d sat down on a bench, staring at the glistening water, thinking about the weird situation with Cas until his head started to hurt. He still feels kinda stuck and he’s at a loss as to how to proceed, but he’s determined as fuck to get normalcy back with Cas.

He’d been thinking about ways to get Cas to open up to him, but he came up with nothing, which isn’t surprising. Dean isn’t a person who likes to talk. He’s not good at it, but it feels like he’s going to have to talk to Cas eventually. He just doesn’t know how. This morning he showed how bad he is at talking. He only got angry at Cas and pissed him off. That hadn’t helped the situation.

He’s got no clue what to do about Cas. Something isn’t right and Cas won’t tell him what. That stubborn fucker.

After another hour of looking around Avon, which hadn’t been very busy, he’d calmed down a little. He went grocery shopping when he’d found a store by chance, although he doesn’t know shit about Cas’ stock.

Dean heads towards the porch of the cabin and opens the door without knocking. It’s not locked.

The angel is still sitting on the couch, the laptop is in front of him on the coffee table. There’s a frown on Cas’s face as he stares at the screen.

“No progress?” Dean asks as he crosses the living room in order to get into the kitchen.

Castiel raises his head. “Hello, Dean.” He squints. “Did you buy something?”

“Uh, yeah…” Thanks to Castiel’s distraction, he doesn’t even notice that Cas didn’t answer him. “I bought something for pasta and apple pie…”

With a surprised look on his face, Castiel lurches to his feet. “You want to bake?” His blue eyes are big, sparkling with interest.

Feeling suddenly shy, Dean rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I have to do _something_, you know.” He shrugs and enters the kitchen to unpack the few groceries.

“Will you give me a slice to try when you’re done?”

Cas is suddenly right behind him, so close that he can feel his body heat. Dean tenses and bites back a sigh. “Cas…” He turns around and stares right in those big blue eyes that stare right back. Once again, Dean feels like the angel sees straight into his soul. “Cas…personal space, you remember that?”

Cas blinks, stares a few seconds longer, then takes a step back. “I never understood that concept,” he grumbles, looking totally unapologetic. “So? What about the pie?”

After having Cas so close, Dean needs a minute to be able to return to the conversation, since he kind of likes Cas being close… But he’s not ready to admit that yet. He turns back to the counter to put the beer that he bought into the fridge. “Yeah, sure. You’ll get a slice.” He eyes Cas and holds up a finger. “One slice.”

Now the angel grins at him. He’s never seen Cas grinning before. It’s kind of…beautiful. Fuck. “I know, Dean. I would be worried if you were generous when it comes to pie.”

And now Dean feels like an asshole. But he just grunts, to avoid picking a fight with Castiel. “Okay. So I’ll make pasta for dinner, if that’s okay with you?”

Cas nods his approval. “That’s kind of you, Dean. Can I help you?”

“Uh, no…” Dean waves a hand in the direction of the laptop. “Just keep on writing and finish whatever you’re working on.” He plans on making the pie for dessert. It’s only mid-afternoon, so he’s still got some time before dinner.

“Thank you.” Cas turns around to go back, but then stops himself. “I’m writing an article about beekeeping. I was told it’s called a ‘Beginner’s Guide.’” There they are, the air quotes. Dean’s missed them. It’s just adorable. _It._ _Not_ Cas_._

“That’s cool, Cas. I remember you like bees.”

“Very much, yes. Maybe I’ll do it myself some day.”

Dean smiles at that thought, while Castiel returns to the living room. Even though bees remind him more of ‘Crazy Cas’, he wants the best for his friend. And if Castiel would be happy with bees, give him bees. As long as Dean doesn’t need to live with them, it’d be fine.

For a minute, he watches Castiel clicking away on the keyboard. It would be a normal sight if the angel wasn’t wearing those comfortable clothes. The kind of clothes he only saw Cas in one time: when he’d been human…

Frowning, Dean occupies himself with dinner and dessert. Maybe Cas is just desperately trying to find his place in their new world. He’s adjusting, and that’ll be easier when he acts like he’s human. Dean gets that, but he doesn’t understand why Castiel left his friends behind. The problem is, he’s not allowed to ask. When he tried to get information this morning, Castiel had just shut him down. So what should Dean do? He’s been waiting for months, and he still doesn’t know what’s actually going on. The only things he knows: where Cas lives, his garden is freakin’ creepy, he has a cat, he writes, he sleeps, eats and showers.

But what about the angels? Do they still contact him? Will he come back to Kansas soon? Will Dean ever see him again after this trip? Is Castiel really doing okay, or is he just pretending? After all, Dean was the one who taught him that humans do that.

Dean’s so confused and frustrated that he doesn’t know where to put these feelings.

He opens a bottle of beer and stares at the dough he made. He has his own shit going on, and then there’s Sam and his girlfriend, and his mother… And now the mystery of Castiel seem to be unsolvable. Cas doesn’t trust him, right…? Is that it? Dean’s fucked it up like he always feared he would.

“Dean?” Suddenly, Cas is right next to him, once again ignoring his personal space. Dean feels soft fingertips smoothing the lines of his forehead. “What has you worrying so much? Is the pie giving you trouble?” The question sounds innocent enough.

Dean sighs as Cas withdraws his hand. “Everything’s just-…”_ Peachy._

But that would be a blatant lie and Dean’s tired of lying. He’s tired of beating around the bush. He takes a deep breath and looks Cas straight in the eye. “We need to talk.”

Against his expectations, Cas’ face softens. “Later, Dean. In the evening.” Dean’s shoulders slump. “I promise.”

Dean releases his breath and nods. “Go finish your guide, Cas.”

Suddenly, he feels defeated. Does he really wanna know what Cas has to say? The angel doesn’t seem to be eager to talk about it.

Dean empties his beer before returning to make the pie and the pasta, his thoughts drawn to the upcoming evening.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s mostly quiet during dinner. Castiel praises Dean’s cooking skills and moans obscenely around his bites of apple pie until Dean thinks that he’ll combust, if the heat that creeps up to his ears is anything to go by. But that’s about it.

When Castiel attempts to help him wash the dishes, Dean demurs. “I’ll do it, Cas. You’ve had enough work today.”

The angel sighs and grabs his beer bottle, shooting him a grateful look. “Okay. I will wait outside for you.” Right. Dean wants them to talk. Maybe. He isn’t sure about that anymore.

Despite his inner turmoil he nods and watches Cas going into the living room, opening the door and stepping onto the porch.

Dean clears his throat and takes care of the kitchen, his thoughts racing. How should he begin this conversation? He can’t just spit out all the questions on his mind, can he?

As he wipes down the counter, he realizes that he’s stalling. Since when is it so hard to talk to Cas?! It’s never been quite like this before. 

“Fuck it…” he mutters and throws the rag aside, before he opens another beer and heads out to Cas.

When he steps onto the porch, there’s a smell lingering in the air that he knows from his teenage years which had been few, but wild. 

Dumbfounded, he looks at Cas, who’s sitting in the beige hammock chair. “Cas? Is that…?!” Instead of finishing the sentence properly, he gestures vaguely at the slim object that Cas is holding in his hand.

Cas raises an eyebrow, trying to hide his amusement, but failing. Dean can see one corner of his mouth twitching. “Yes, Dean. It’s an electronic vape pen. And yes, it’s weed. I hear it’s legal now.”

Huh? He wonders about the reasons why Cas is smoking, and how he got his hands on freakin’ weed in the first place, and wants to ask him about it. But he holds back his questions, as he’s been doing so often lately when it comes to Cas.

As Dean steps closer, he gets another heart attack, because in the light of the setting sun, Cas looks so relaxed and  _ fucking beautiful _ that he can’t take it. Cas’ skin is tanned and golden, his dark hair slightly curling behind his ears, some strands falling onto his forehead.

Dean’s breath hitches as he stares at the man right in front of him, trying to figure out what has changed. Why is he suddenly thinking about Castiel  _ that way _ ? Is something wrong with his brain? Had the last hit on his head been too much?

“Sit…” Cas gestures toward the table and the empty chair to his right.

Dean’s only able to grunt and obey without protest. Cas looks pleased, before he reaches out to offer him the pen. For a second, Dean thinks about declining, because, really? Weed? He’s actually too old for this shit, isn’t he? Or maybe it’s the hunter talking, because smoking weed might not be the best idea considering that a monster could attack them at any moment. But he has to relax eventually, right? He can’t expect the worst all the time. Being paranoid is just exhausting.

Warily, he eyes the offered pen, licking his lips nervously. Nobody’s gonna judge him here. There’s just Cas, and he’s offering, so why not try it again after probably two decades?

“What exactly is that?”

“This type is indica. It helps you to relax and reduces insomnia.” Cas shrugs, not meeting Dean’s eyes.

He slowly leans to the side and takes the pen. “Well, okay… How does that shit work?”

With a soft smile on his lips, Cas patiently explains how to use the pen, letting the amber liquid settle while he talks.

Dean listens, relieved that it’s pretty easy, and after a minute, he’s pressing the button and taking a pull. The smoke fills his lungs, burning just right in the back of his throat. He exhales, white smoke filling the sky. He has to swallow back a cough since it’s been years since he last smoked. He looks over at Cas, finding his eyes glued to Dean’s mouth. Huh.

“Here…” He hands Castiel the pen and makes himself comfortable on the chair. A sedating effect might be what he needs right now in order to get through this conversation. He needs to relax a bit, since he doesn’t want his pounding heart distracting him from the words he needs to use for this talk.

“Why are you here, Dean?” Castiel’s voice gently cuts through the silence between them.

Okay, that’s not the question he’d anticipated. 

He stares at Castiel. Castiel stares back with a look in his eyes which clearly indicates that Dean won’t get out of this conversation.

“Uhm… What do you mean by that? Do you think I’m having second thoughts?!” He frowns at Castiel. “Because no, I just wanted to see you. It’s been eight fucking months, Cas. In case you didn’t notice: this is the first time in forever that it’s been this long since we’ve seen each other.” He stops and runs a hand over his face. 

Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ . These words are very close to a blunt admission that he’d actually just  _ missed  _ Cas. And he won’t say that, because…no, Dean Winchester doesn’t say things like that. He’s not  _ that  _ pathetic. It’s telling enough that he texted Cas, begging to let him visit.

“Dean…” Cas’ voice is quiet. “I know it’s not easy, but as you said, we need to talk. I need to hear something from you. And you’ll hear something from me.”

“Sounds like blackmail,” Dean grumbles, but Castiel shakes his head, looking at him with a relaxed, but earnest, face.

“It’s not. You don’t have to tell me anything. I’m just concerned, Dean. You said you weren’t fine.”

Dean closes his eyes for a moment, before gesturing for the vape pen. It’s apparently time to be honest tonight, so why not get high to let the inhibitions sink? He’s never been good with words or with feelings, he thinks as he takes a pull from the pen. 

He’s afraid of saying something stupid that will make Cas turn away from him again. And Dean’s embarrassed about what happened back in Derby. How he felt, weak, powerless and lonely. He probably deserves that, after what he’d done. When he’d been possessed, he’d done a lot of horrible things, and even Sam and Cas hadn’t been spared.

So where should he start? What’s the right thing to tell Cas?

When Dean hears a deep sigh next to him, he shoots Castiel a glare, but the angel doesn’t seem to care. “Dean, stop thinking so much.” Cas snatches the pen out of Dean’s hand and just waits.

Nervously, Dean stares at his own feet and licks his lips, which have started to tingle. He can feel the hit he took under his skin, and it’s actually a good kind of buzz.

“Well, yeah, I’m not fine. I mean, so much shit happened. How am I supposed to be fine? It wasn’t suddenly sunshine and rainbows just because we gave up hunting.” His brows furrow in frustration and he looks up when he hears Castiel snort. But Cas isn’t looking at him, he seems to be lost in thought. Maybe he’s thinking about the past, too.

“Is that what you thought?” Cas finally asks. “That everything would be fine once you had your peace and quiet?” The question is genuine; Castiel isn’t mocking him. Maybe he’d hoped the very same thing but had been disappointed, just like Dean.

“No,” Dean answers. “I  _ hoped _ something good would happen, but I didn’t really believe it. I mean, yeah, the last time I went hunting was a few weeks ago now, but…”

“Wait.” Castiel stares at him. “What do you mean  _ ‘a few weeks ago’ _ ? We decided to quit hunting eight  _ months _ ago.”

Dean shrugs. Castiel probably won’t like the answer, like Sam. “Sometimes I just itch to go on a hunt. It’s what I did my whole life. So, I go.” Castiel’s eyes widen at these words. “Sam refuses to come with me, and that’s okay. He doesn’t want me to go, either, and sometimes he’d convince me not to go. But other times I just have to  _ do something _ . So, like, seven or so weeks ago, I drove up to Montana, working a case.”

“Oh, Dean…” Castiel’s eyes go soft, which surprises Dean. Sam just gets pissed and angry and disappointed. And worried, of course. Cas averts his gaze and looks at the garden. “I understand. I felt that way, too. But for me, it’s been important—as well as helpful—that all three of us decided to stop hunting. Thinking of you helped me to not get involved with hunts again. I would have felt like I was betraying you and your brother.” A small smile tugs at a corner of Cas’ lips. “Clearly, the same thought didn’t occur to you.” Whoa, now  _ that _ sounded insulting and it must reflect on Dean’s face, because Cas quickly adds, “It’s dangerous, Dean, you know that. It always has been and that will never change. I’m sure you know that Sam and I will come for you when something happens, but…” Castiel stops and looks at him intently. “Dean, we gave up on hunting to be a little safer. Putting yourself in danger also means you’re adding risk to Sam’s life. I don’t care about mine, but I do care about yours and Sam’s. And I’m sure you wouldn’t want to put Sam into any danger, right?”

Dean can’t hold Cas’ gaze any longer. Instead, he prefers to stare at his feet as a long sigh escapes his lips. “Of course I don’t want either of you hurt. And I know, Cas, I know, okay?” He rubs a hand over his face, noticing in the back of his mind that the motion requires more effort than normal. “But it’s hard, getting accustomed to this new life. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, and it’s so easy to go back to my old life… There are still things creeping around at night…”

He takes a deep breath. The memories of his life as a hunter still cling to him and they’ll probably never fade. And there are also the nightmares which keep everything fresh and raw like a wound. Dean’s not able to heal and he won’t ever be. That much he knows. So it’s easier to go investigate a case than to find something new to do. Even if it puts him in danger.

He lifts his head and looks at Cas. “I told Sam not to look for me if I disappear or something. If I die during a case, so be it. I don’t want you, or Sam, or Mom looking for me. I don’t want you to risk your life anymore, just to save me.”

Cas smiles sadly. “I think you know that it is impossible to grant your request.” Dean’s shoulders slump. Sam had said something similar. “It’s another thing that will never change. We are Winchesters, Dean. So you should understand that we can never just let anything happen to you.”

The angel tucks his legs under himself and turns to face Dean fully, before he puts the vape pen down on the table between them. He looks very serious and determined now. “Dean, I  _ know  _ that it’s been very hard. This is uncharted territory. We don’t know how to live a normal life. But we try. And over time, we’ll succeed. I believe that. I have to because I want us all to be safe. I don’t want to worry constantly about my family anymore.” 

Dean feels something warm shifting inside him at the words. Castiel calling them family, it always does things to him. 

“Mary isn’t ready yet to take the step we took. But I’m sure that someday, she will leave the hunt behind,” Cas continues. “This period of transition is anything but easy, I know that, Dean. Please, help us get through it. Stop the occasional hunting.” Castiel’s big blue eyes stare at him, silently pleading. Something begins to ache in Dean’s chest. “Sam, you and me, we’ve always pulled each other out of the mess we made. Or out of the crisis we were in. So now, we’ll do the same. Give us a little help here, Dean. Maybe Sam is doing okay, but still, you’re not the only one suffering.” At Dean’s questioning look, Cas gestures towards the vape pen. “Why do you think I’m smoking weed?” He doesn’t elaborate and Dean’s tempted to ask, but a closed expression appears on Castiel’s face. It makes his features look sharp, something he hasn’t seen in a very long time.

Dean keeps quiet for a moment and mulls his thoughts over. So now Castiel is smoking weed to feel better, or what? There is something he doesn’t understand. Something that just doesn’t make any sense. Since when does weed help angels? He narrows his eyes, staring suspiciously at Cas. “Well, why do you do it?” he finally asks. “I thought this shit wouldn’t really affect you anyway.”

Cas sighs. “But it does. It helps me to cope just like it helps other people.”

Huh? Well, Cas has always been something else. He was never an angel whose thoughts and actions were predictable.

Without another word Cas grabs the vape pen and inhales. For a second, Dean focuses on the chapped lips wrapped around the pen, but as soon as he notices his own staring, he looks away. He wants to give Cas comfort, but he doesn’t dare. He wonders what the angel has been up to for the past eight months. Had he really just been writing his articles? It seems like Dean’s missing something important here.

“So, you came just to see me?” Castiel returns to his original question.

Dean clears his throat. “Yeah.”

“Now that you checked on me, what are we going to do from here on?”

He squints at Cas. “You want me gone? Am I already annoying you?”

For a couple of painful seconds, Cas stares at him, his jaw working. Then his eyes soften. “No. Stay.” It’s said genuinely.

Dean exhales slowly and nods. It’s strange with Cas, these days. Dean feels awfully relieved that he’s allowed to stay, for now. Nervously, he licks his lips. “Uh, for how long?” He needs to know. Of course there’s Sam who wants to know for how long is brother will be gone, but Dean’s aching for some more days in Colorado, with Cas, and he needs to be sure he’s welcomed for another day or two. Maybe more.

Castiel returns his look with a blank face and shrugs. “You can stay here as long as you want, Dean.” He takes a pull from his vape pen and makes himself comfortable on the chair, staring at the horizon where the sun disappeared just seconds ago.

Dean chews on his lower lip, then decides to go for it. “So, first you don’t want me to even know where you live, and now I can stay? No matter how long? What changed your mind?”

Once again, Cas shrugs. It’s another gesture that Dean never saw his friend doing before. “I just did. I guess it’s time. Time to reconnect.” He stares absently up to the trees.

“Cas… What have you been doing for all these months?” It’s one of the most urgent questions that Dean desperately wants answered.

Cas gives him a faint smile which tells him already that Cas won’t really answer his question. “I sort of travelled a bit. As you can see, I didn’t get that far.” He sighs and shoots him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Dean, but I don’t feel like talking about this topic tonight. But I assure you I will answer your questions on another occasion.”

Dean sighs since he’s disappointed, but he nods anyway. “Sure, Cas…” He’s just glad that he managed to avoid pissing Cas off.

Absently, he shifts his legs and notices only then that they feel kind of heavy. It seems like the weed did affect him, eventually. He groans quietly as he tries to stretch them out. Maybe it’s time for bed. Fuck, he’s really pushing forty, otherwise he wouldn’t think about going to bed so early. It’s probably not even nine.

Castiel only smiles at him knowingly and stands up. “Are you going to eat another slice of pie? Or use my Netflix?”

Dean stands on wobbly legs. “Nah, gonna hit the hay…” He stills and stares at Cas. “Wait…Netflix? You have Netflix?” 

Now the angel looks kind of proud. “I do.”

Of course. Dean shouldn’t be surprised. He thinks back to when Castiel had been recovering from a spell Rowena had cast on him. Cas had been huddled up in the bunker watching Netflix while Sam and Dean went on a case. He had been marathoning all the important shows. Dean smiles at the memory, even if the circumstances hadn’t been ideal.

Then, his thoughts make a jump. “That means you’ve got wifi.”

“Yes.” Cas tilts his head in that naïve way that makes Dean’s nerves flutter.

“That’s great! That’s good, uhm… There’s no reception in the area, so I couldn’t text Sam… He’s probably worried by now.”

Castiel’s eyes widen. “Oh, he certainly is. I’ll give you the WiFi password.” He waves Dean into the cabin.

By now, the outdoor lights have switched on, since it’s after dark. Before he gets into the cabin, Dean looks around one more time. The forest is still a bit creepy at night, but now that he knows how nice it actually looks, he’s fine with it. He smiles to himself, then follows Castiel into the living room.

As soon as Dean’s phone is connected, a couple of messages from Sam drop in. Dean sighs. “Seems like Sam’s about to drive to Colorado. I’ll call him.” He sees Cas nodding and retreats to his bedroom while dialing the number of his brother’s phone. 

Sam picks up immediately. “Dean? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Sam, I’m fine.”

“What happened?” Sam sounds alert. “I haven’t heard from you since you took off.”

“Yeah, I can’t do anything with my phone here. Apparently, Avon is a medieval nightmare. But Cas helped me get WiFi. I’m sorry, I didn’t think of it earlier.”

Sam sighs in relief. “Okay, I get it. How is it going? Do you think he’s okay?”

Dean plops on his bed, staring into the darkness. He tries to resist, but in the end, he reaches out for the lamp on the nightstand and flips it on, before rubbing a hand over his face. He doesn’t really wanna get into the details. “It’s complicated, but so far we’re both okay.”

“Are you sure?” Sam doesn’t sound convinced.

“Yeah, I mean… Given the circumstances… There’s a lot of shit we have to talk about and Cas isn’t eager about it… He’s avoiding it more than I am.” He snorts. It’s really weird.

Sam doesn’t say anything. Dean can imagine him rubbing his forehead, trying to evaluate the situation.

“So far, we’re doing okay… I’ll call you if something happens, and, uh… Call me if you need help with anything.”

“Okay,” Sam says softly.

Dean sits up. “Hey, uh, how’s it going with Val?”

Sam laughs quietly since he knows Dean’s just trying to change the topic. “We’re good. It’s really great being with her. Sully loves her, too. So…”

“Sully loves her,  _ too _ ?” Dean echoes with wide eyes.

“Uh…Say hi to Cas for me. Bye.”

Suddenly the line is dead. Dean stares at the display of his phone, then he smiles. He’s happy for Sam. Finally his little brother got his break—probably more than just a break. Hopefully he gets what he wants. What he deserves.

Dean puts his phone away and heaves a deep sigh. When he looks up, he notices that he left the door open. But then again, even if Cas heard what he’d said, it’s not a big deal. Dean didn’t share any secrets or tell any lies, so it’s fine.

He puts his face in his hands. So yeah, Sam’s doing fine. At least one out of three Winchesters gets to be happy. Dean’s sure he won’t ever really be happy. He doesn’t know about Mary, but it seems that she’s also struggling with the situation.

Well, okay, Cas called himself also a Winchester — and that’s totally cool with Dean, because yes, after all these years, Cas  _ is _ a Winchester. The question is, is he happy? Maybe not right now, because if so, he wouldn’t need weed. But maybe there is a person that Cas loves… Maybe there is someone for him like Valerie is to Sam… It hurts to think about it, although Dean should be happy for the angel. But whatever, right now he doesn’t know shit.

“Dean?”

He flinches, his head flying up. He stares into Castiel’s blue, concerned eyes. The angel is standing in the door, one hand planted on the frame as if to stop himself from entering.

“What?” Dean knows he sounds a bit gruff and Cas doesn’t deserve that, but obviously he’s still a sneaky bastard and that makes Dean a little uncomfortable.

Cas shoots him an amused smile. “Apparently you didn’t have enough weed.” He sighs. “Is everything okay? Were you able to assure Sam of your safety?”

“Yeah, he’s good.” Dean quits being an ass because it would just push Cas away. He forces down a yawn and stands up. “So, you gonna show me your Netflix now, or what?”

Cas relaxes and smiles at him. “I thought you wanted to ‘hit the hay’.” Oh fuck, those air quotes…

“Yeah, maybe after a movie or an episode of something. Show me what you like to watch…”

He  _ is  _ tired, but still, he’s here to spend some time with Cas. That’s more important than sleeping.

They make themselves comfortable on the two couches, both lying down in order to be able to comfortably watch the TV that hangs on the wall. Of course, Cas wants to watch a documentary. That’s not bad, per se, but…

“Cas, come on, really? I don’t wanna know about the sexual behavior of whales…”

The angel gives him a blank look. “It’s blue whales and dolphins,” he corrects. “And it’s rather interesting how they manage to-…”

“No! No, Cas, please. Let’s watch some other documentary that doesn’t involve sex between animals. Or between humans. No genitals at all, okay?”

Very slowly, Cas’ eyebrows rise, realization dawning, and he leans forward, looking at Dean with an amused expression on his face. “The topic makes you uncomfortable,” he states and cocks his head. “Why?”

“Uh…” Baffled by the question, Dean simply stares at Cas instead of answering right away, shrugging. “I don’t know. It just does. Don’t wanna look at some animal’s junk, you know?”

“But you do watch porn.” He looks confused now, reminding Dean of that naïve bird look Cas once had perfected.

With a groan, Dean lets his head fall back onto the pillows. “Yeah, but that’s different. It’s, uh… It’s hot. Because it’s porn,” he explains poorly. “Watching a documentary that even remotely involves sex or something is just…disgusting.” A brief look in Cas’ direction reveals that the angel still doesn’t understand the difference, but damn, Dean won’t explain it again. Nope.

Luckily, Castiel doesn’t ask again. With a sigh, he changes to another documentary. This time, it’s about food waste. Sounds okay.

Dean settles back into the couch, which is surprisingly comfortable. It’s warm in the room, a mild breeze of August air streaming in through an open window, rustling the curtain.

He turns his head a little to see Cas sprawled across the couch, several pillows under his head. A small smile tugs at Dean’s lips as he observes his best friend. That’s a lot more interesting than the documentary about food waste. No matter how much Dean loves food, he lo-... likes Castiel a bit more. _ Huh _ . 

The nice warmth also lulls him into sleep embarrassingly fast. One second he’s staring at Cas, who doesn’t seem to notice that he’s being observed, and then, Dean’s out like a light.

***.*.***

His heart’s racing and he doesn’t know why. Sure, it’s dark when he opens his eyes. It’s surrounding him, and as he takes in all that blackness—no end in sight—he can feel it creeping into his body. He feels hollow, frozen into place. He’s experienced years of danger, darkness, blood and all the gross things that one can think of. Shouldn’t he be more calm? He’s seen worse. Some black  _ nothingness _ can’t freak him out. Right?

Right.

Except it totally does.

Cold fear tingles at Dean’s neck. There is someone — or something — behind him. Or next to him. He can’t tell since he can’t see a damn thing. It’s not only unsettling, it’s scary. 

What the fuck should he do now? He wants to open his mouth and ask who’s there, but he finds that he can’t say a damn thing. He’d like to scream at whatever is hiding in this place, but it’s simply  _ not working. _ He still can’t move, he can’t talk, so how’s he going to defend himself? If whatever’s watching him is about to attack, then he can’t do anything to stop it.

It makes him panic. His heart’s pounding now and it feels like it could literally leap out of his chest. Cold sweat breaks out, little droplets building at his temples. 

He feels helpless, vulnerable, and for once he wishes that he could just faint and only wake up when everything’s good again.

Where’s Cas? Where’s Sam? Why is he here alone, without any backup...?

The next moment, he feels something solid clawing at him. The cold and the fear that the touch elicits in his very core are overwhelming. Dean opens his mouth, a soundless scream dying on his lips.

***.*.***

“Dean?”

Dean’s eyes fly open as he automatically reaches out. To his own surprise he grabs a firm shoulder. Cas’ shoulder. 

Dean blinks a few times, trying to regain his breath and get his shit together. He needs a moment to remember where he is. It’s almost full dark now but he can make out the silhouette of Cas’ living room. He still in the cabin, not in that place full of  _ nothing. _

Cas is hovering above him. “Dean?” He can’t see his friend’s face but his voice sounds concerned. However, Dean finds that he can’t answer. He still can’t speak. It’s like the sleep is still occupying him, making his limbs and his tongue heavy. “Dean, it was a nightmare,” Cas whispers, and he can feel Cas’ breath on his face. “You’re safe here... It’s okay.”

Finally Dean releases his grip on Cas’ shoulder, slowly regaining control of his body and mind.

“Cas...” His voice breaks and Cas shushes him. 

“You’re safe. You’re safe,” Cas whispers again and shifts slightly next to him. That’s when Dean notices that Cas is sitting right next to him on the couch, so that he can feel his body warmth. It’s comforting, much better than the cold he had felt in his nightmare. 

It’s not that he can really see it, but he feels Castiel’s eyes locked onto his.

Suddenly there are warm hands on his shoulders, then snaking underneath. Castiel’s leaning in closer, their chests touching. Dean can feel warm breath puffing against his neck.

Oh.

_ Is Cas hugging him? _

Dean’s blushing, so for once, he’s grateful for the darkness. His heart rate picks up again, but this time, it’s a rather nice feeling. Slowly, he lifts a hand and lays it on Cas’s back. He can feel the warmth under his palm, despite the shirt that the angel is wearing.

They stay in that slightly awkward, but intimate, position for a long moment. Although Dean feels like he should push Cas away, making a joke about personal space, he doesn’t do it. He can’t, because actually, it’s really nice to have the angel this close. It’s comforting, the nightmare slowly forgotten.

Eventually, Cas shifts and sits up again, but his hands aren’t leaving Dean’s shoulders. One of them even slides up to Dean’s neck. 

“Are you feeling better?” Cas’ voice is low and  _ doing things  _ to Dean _ . _ Maybe because Castiel was just woken from sweet slumber and this is his sleepy voice or…well, maybe he kind of  _ like- _ liked being close to Dean?

At this thought, Dean only manages a whimper at the back of his throat and he hears Castiel inhaling. Then, a soft thumb traces Dean’s lower lip, leaving a slight tingle. Dean attempts to open his mouth, because what the fuck? But Cas presses his thumb on Dean’s lip more insistently, so he keeps quiet. And then Cas replaces the finger with his lips.

Dean’s ability to think flies right out of the window, along with his ability to talk. The last thing he imagined about tonight was Cas  _ kissing him  _ and how did they even end up here like this? But actually, none of that matters.

Dean melts further into the couch, his body going pliant under Cas’ weight. The kiss is warm, but short, and Castiel withdraws quickly as if he just realized that he made a mistake.

Dean releases a breath he didn’t know he held, staring at the silhouette above him.

“Cas?” he whispers, his voice breathy.

The angel doesn’t answer and since Dean doesn’t really want to wait for that, he slowly raises the hand that had been on Cas’ back. Cas doesn’t react as Dean cards his fingers through thick, soft hair. 

The angel seems to take the gesture as encouragement. Suddenly, those soft, dry lips are on Dean’s again. This time, the kiss is clearly heated and Dean finds that he welcomes that. Their mouths press against each other desperately, and Dean gives a satisfied sigh as he licks across Cas’ lips, which open up for him instantly. 

Their tongues touch and something shifts between them. Dean groans — where the fuck did Castiel learn to kiss like this?! In desperation, he reaches out for Cas’ hips, trying to pull him closer. Cas gets it and fits himself between Dean’s slightly spread legs.

_ Oh _ . 

There’s warm, solid muscle on top of him, hands cradling his cheeks, soft lips pressing against his own.  _ It feels fucking good. _

Dean’s still not able to think, he can only feel, because Cas’ solid weight pressing him into the couch is overwhelming — in a good way. With his tongue, he explores Castiel’s warm mouth, while his hands grab the firm biceps of the angel. 

When Cas cards his fingers through Dean’s short hair and  _ tugs, _ angling his head just right so that the kiss gets even deeper and  _ dirtier,  _ there’s a low moan escaping Dean’s throat, so that Cas knows he’s done something right. And Dean feels the lips of the other man curling into a smug grin.

They don’t stop the kiss, and they don’t do anything beyond that. And it’s okay. Dean’s content with dirty kissing. Who knew Cas had such a talented mouth? He likes the way Cas kisses, and he likes Cas, a lot, and so it’s easy to lose all sense of time. It doesn’t matter. There’s Cas on top of him, kissing him like there’s no tomorrow. Slowly, there’s an urgent heat unfolding in his belly, although Cas keeps his hips from pressing down on Dean’s.

He’s pretty confused about how they came to be here, yes, but for once, he doesn’t care. He just lets it happen, lets Cas make him feel better. His hands are roaming Cas’ back, then clawing at broad shoulders. And fuck, it’s nice to feel all that firm muscle under his palms. 

By the time Cas lifts his head in order to put some space between them, Dean is panting heavily. So is Cas. He can feel his quick breath on his lips.

There’s one final kiss being placed on Dean’s lips, before Cas lifts himself up. It’s getting cold immediately. They stare at each other in the darkness, until Dean can’t take it anymore.

“Cas?” He hates himself for sounding needy and disappointed.

“We should sleep, Dean.”

Whoa. What? That’s kind of like cold water.

“What?”

“Dean…” Cas’ voice is soft and quiet and a little bit apologetic as he drapes a blanket over Dean. “Please, let’s just sleep. I’ll stay here, on the other couch. Remember that you’re safe here,” he whispers and squeezes Dean’s arm gently before he backs off, leaving Dean very confused.

He stares into the darkness of the room, listening to the rustling at the other end of the room, and then it’s quiet. Cas went back to sleep.

Dean blinks in confusion. What the fuck just happened? There’s no way he can sleep now. First that nightmare, then Castiel kissing him like he’d die if he didn’t do it, and suddenly it’s just... _ go to sleep, Dean _ . What the hell? Shouldn’t there be happening something else? Not necessarily sex, but…maybe a talk? Or at least they should sleep together on the same couch?

Dean feels like the epitome of a question mark. Cas’ behavior has left him dumbfounded. Is he missing something here? He’s too stunned to even think about talking to Cas.

Suddenly, Dean feels kind of abandoned. Rejected, even. He really doesn’t understand anything right now. How did one thing lead to the other?

His head starts to hurt, but he keeps staring at the ceiling, his arousal fading as quickly as it came. Eventually, he’ll fall asleep, but right now, he thinks about what had happened in the past. He thinks about the things he’d done to Cas, and Dean’s pretty sure that the angel will always remember those moments, too.

Dean can’t stop thinking about this being the reason that will keep Cas and him apart. Forever.

Because you don’t forget getting tortured by your supposed best friend.


	5. Chapter 5

Warm rays of sunshine tease him into wakefulness. Dean’s pretty sure that he’s slept without any more nightmares. Thanks to that, he doesn’t feel that tired as he wipes away some drool from his right cheek.

He blinks against the light streaming inside the living room, but when his gaze falls onto the other couch in the room, he sees only a rumpled blanket—Cas is nowhere in sight.

His muscles ache when he sits up with a groan. Apparently he’s slept in the same position for too many hours, so he’s a little stiff. He looks around but Castiel doesn’t seem to be hiding anywhere nearby. The only things Dean notices are an open front door and the very promising and stimulating smell of coffee. So his sunshine is probably already up and about.

Dean stands up and stretches before going to check on Cas. Even though the smell of freshly brewed coffee is tempting, the urge to look for Cas is stronger, maybe even bordering on a compulsion. But he _needs_ to be sure that Cas is here, safe. In one piece. That’s the only thing that matters.

When Dean reaches the front door, he pokes his head outside. To his relief, he spots the angel right away. Castiel is standing in the midst of his freaky green garden, tending the plants. Dean can’t see exactly what he’s doing but the way sweat has built on Cas’ temples, it has to be work. Something strenuous. Ugh. Work, so early in the morning? That’s not exactly Dean’s cup of tea.

Feeling better, Dean retreats into the kitchen and glances at the clock. It’s only seven… Seven a.m. and Cas is harvesting or watering or some shit. Nerdy angel. But then again, angels don’t really require sleep, so Dean shouldn’t be surprised that Castiel is already up and active. Maybe it’s just that he already got a little bit accustomed to the human behavior that Cas has been displaying recently. He’d like to ask him about that—hell, he’s got a ton of questions for Cas, actually—but the angel hasn’t been exactly willing to answer any of the questions that Dean’s come up with, so Dean’s not keen about asking _again._

_ _

Lost in thought, Dean pours himself some still-hot coffee in a blue-painted mug that’s seen better days. As he puts back the coffee pot he hears Cas entering the kitchen and in an instant, he’s feeling uneasy, remembering quite vividly what has happened the night before.

“Good morning, Dean.”

Dean’s fingers tighten around the mug and he turns around to meet Cas’ gaze, trying to relax the grimace he feels on his face. “Mornin’.”

“Today feels like pancakes,” Cas says as he bends down to open a cupboard, oblivious to Dean’s uneasiness. “What do you think?”

“That sounds perfect,” Dean mumbles into his mug before he sips some coffee. His gaze lingers on Cas as he pulls out a pan and stands. He’ll never get used to Cas acting all human, but it’s a look that suits him. It’s not as unsettling as the angel Castiel, all stoic and stiff. The only thing that bothers Dean is the memories that he associates with Cas being human. The guilt he felt when he had to send Castiel away. His friend had needed help, shelter and guidance. He’d needed his friends, his _family_. Of course Castiel now knows why Dean had treated him that way, and he doesn’t hold a grudge, but Dean feels bad about it nonetheless. He could’ve done better. Instead, he’d failed Cas.

Cas looks up, and that’s when Dean realizes he’s been staring. “Dean? Is everything alright?” His low voice is like a soft caress, calming. Dean just stares for one more second, making Cas tilt his head in slight confusion.

“Uh…” Dean clears his throat. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

Cas gives him a small smile before he starts to make the batter for pancakes, clearly deeming it best not to ask Dean what exactly he’s thinking about. And Dean’s grateful for that, but it also means that they won’t talk about what happened last night. The way Cas is acting, nobody would assume they’d been _kissing_. And Dean’s close to believing that he might’ve just imagined it all.

If Dean’s honest with himself, this whole thing makes him uneasy. They really should talk about it, because he needs to know what it meant. For Castiel, for both of them. But he can’t find it in himself to ask Cas about it. It’s one more question added onto the huge pile of unasked questions—and those that have already been asked and rejected.

“I thought about swimming today,” Cas pipes up a few minutes later as he pours some batter into the pan.

Dean casts a glance out the windows. Seems like another sunny day in August. “Yeah, sounds good.” He sighs. “I didn’t bring any trunks. Guess I better head out after breakfast to buy some.”

Cas smiles and nods. “Do that. In the meantime, I can finish my article on Alexander the Great.”

Confused, Dean eyes his friend. “I thought you’re writing about bee hives or something.”

Castiel nods again. “There are several topics I’m currently writing about. I’m working for several publishers.” He squints and looks around briefly. “Can you hand me that plate, please?”

Dean does as he’s asked and finishes his coffee, before he lends Cas a hand at preparing breakfast.

***.*.***

Turns out they’re freakin’ great at avoiding the important topics. During breakfast, they don’t talk much. Cas just asks how their friends are doing—Jody, Donna, the kids, Rowena. Then, they clean up, and Dean leaves the cabin as fast as he can, taking his time when he enters the one and only Walmart in town.

He hates himself for being a chickenshit, and he’s kinda disappointed that Cas didn’t do him the favor and bite the bullet. He’d really hoped that Cas would start the conversation about the kiss. Welp. Seems like Dean has to man up, after all.

When Dean comes back to the cabin around noon, he’s still at a loss. Fuck, if it isn’t awkward between them. He’s sure that it’s never been this hard to be around Cas. It actually had always been easy. Well, most of the time. Maybe Dean’s just imagining things, maybe there’s only tension on his side, but no matter what, he doesn’t like it that they didn’t talk about _last night. _If Cas hadn’t stopped them, eventually _things_ could’ve happened and Dean doesn’t know if he would’ve been ready for…well, more. But shouldn’t they just try and see where it takes them? Ignoring the whole thing makes him restless. He’d like to know if Cas is up for a repeat. If this situation doesn’t change for the better, Dean’s sure that he’ll snap eventually. And maybe Cas will turn him away for good… That’s the last thing that Dean wants to happen.

He takes a deep breath, inhaling the various smells of sweet flowers and tangy herbs as he crosses the garden in front of the cabin. Something climbs up one of the tall trees: It’s a squirrel that disappears between the green leaves. Dean stops and watches for a few seconds, staring up at the treetops, hoping he’ll see the squirrel one more time. But nothing happens.

Standing in the lush garden, between the flowers and herbs, he almost gets the feeling they are alive. To some degree, they are, of course, but this feels different. Dean’s attention is on them and that fact is already saying a lot about this garden. Dean never pays attention to flowers and vegetables and all that shit. It feels like they’re whispering in the warm air, leaning gently towards him, wanting him to tell them about his life, his thoughts…

Dean swallows and resumes his walk towards the cabin. It should feel creepy in the garden, but it doesn’t. It’s only a little bit weird, but being out here makes him feel…warm. Safe.

Okay, yeah, it’s weird. Maybe Cas did something to the ground here, using his freaking angel mojo to make it grow better and now they’ve developed some kind of intelligence or conscience like an AI gone wild. Ugh. He _should ask_ Cas about the garden, but it’ll probably be like all the other important questions he has, and won’t be answered. So he won’t even try to ask.

When Dean enters the cabin, he doesn’t spot Cas in the living room like he expected. The front door falls shut behind him as he crosses the living room. “Cas?”

He lets the bag with his new board shorts fall on the floor on his way to the kitchen. He pokes his head inside and sees Cas sitting at the kitchen island. The other man’s lower lip is caught between his teeth as he stares at the paper on the table, drawing something with a pencil. He seems to be concentrating so hard that it makes Dean want to sneak away—at least he tries. But when he takes a step back, trying not to disturb Cas, the angel lifts his head and stares at him with his stupidly blue eyes.

“Dean.” He smiles and sighs happily. “You’re back.”

“Uh…yeah. Sure.” Why wouldn’t he?

“Did you find something suitable?”

Dean nods. “I guess so. It’ll do.” The board shorts he chose were dark green, and they were cheap so it had been a no-brainer.

Castiel nods as he stands up. “Then let’s get changed.”

“Uh…” Dean glances at the scribbling that’s still on the table. “You’re into drawing now?” It looks like a person.

Cas raises an eyebrow as he takes the paper and squeezes past Dean. “I have a lot of time on my hands, Dean.” Dean doesn’t reply anything since he’s already distracted by the faint scent of _Cas._ It’s clean and grounding, like the earth after it rained, and there’s something fruity, perhaps from one of the shampoos in Cas’ bathroom. Dean is stunned for a moment as the distant feeling of Cas’ body heat is vanishing._ Fuck, this is gonna be so hard._

It wasn’t easy with Cas before he came here. It’s not gonna be easy from here on out, either, being so close together all the time.

_Fuck_. For fuck’s sake, Dean’s body is reacting to the scent, the warmth, the simple existence of Cas. Great. He closes his eyes, then quickly turns around to see Cas disappearing into the bathroom, probably to get changed.

“Alright…” As Dean goes to change in the bedroom, he realizes he’s really fucked. Going to the lake isn’t the best idea. Or is it? Maybe Cas wants to kiss him again…? Dean will have to wait. Maybe he’ll eventually work up the courage to take what he wants. Maybe. But the fear of losing Cas over it will probably be too strong.

After he’s put his jeans back on over his new swimsuit, he packs some things into the duffel and tucks his ivory-handled gun into the back of his pants like he always does. He takes a deep breath as he opens the door. He’ll make it through this ‘lake situation’.

_Focus on Cas’ face, don’t let your eyes rake over his body like a horny teenager._

He nods at himself, then goes into the living room. Castiel is already waiting for him, now wearing jeans instead of black sweatpants and holding towels in his right hand. Other than that, he doesn’t look any different.

“I can squeeze the towels into my bag,” Dean offers, waving his hand in a prompting gesture.

Cas nods and hands him the rather worn-looking blue towels. “Thank you.” As Dean bends down to put them away, his shirt must ride up a little, because Castiel is able to spot his gun. “Dean, it’s not necessary to carry your weapon. It’s safe around here, I can assure you.” At Dean’s doubtful look, he adds, “I warded the cabin and the perimeter to keep us safe.” And then, he freezes, something akin to sadness crossing his eyes.

Dean’s eyebrows furrow, because Cas keeps looking stunned. As he thinks about Cas’ words, he stands up and squints at Castiel. “Us?” he repeats, suddenly realizing that Cas doesn’t mean himself and Dean.

Cas snaps out of his trance and smiles softly at him. “Me and Lori.”

Dean’s stomach churns. “Lori?” So there’s a woman in Cas’ life?

Cas nods. “Lorinda Ward. She initially lived here.” He turns around. “Let’s talk on our way to the lake. It will take us about fifteen minutes.”

Actually, Dean doesn’t really wanna go swimming right now, but he stays quiet and follows Cas outside. The angel locks the door, then leads the way through the back yard and right into the woods. Something twists inside Dean and it’s not a nice feeling. Why does he feel weird about Cas knowing a woman?

“You lived together?” he blurts out, then tries to school his face into something neutral.

“Yes, we did. For about two or three months.” Cas falls silent again as they trot across very green grass, passing various bushes, each growing tasty-looking berries.

It’s warm today, a light breeze caressing their faces. Dean glances at Castiel next to him, still marveling at the longer hair. It curls at several spots now, behind his ears, at his forehead. It’s a good look on him.

Dean wants to ask about this Lori, but he doesn’t wanna push Cas. He already knows that it’s pointless. The angel will most likely block his questions anyway, so he’ll wait, even if he hates it.

Cas runs a hand through hair, messing it up. “I came to Avon in the spring,” he suddenly says. “Back then, I was searching for a safe place to stay for a couple of weeks.” Dean narrows his eyes as he tries to bite back a hurt comment. Why didn’t Cas just come to him, back to Kansas? For a brief moment, he remembers all the times Cas had been in miserable situations in the past, but didn’t reach out to the brothers. And Dean thinks of the last few months, when he’d needed Cas. And that’s all it takes.

“You know you could’ve just called Sam or me, right? You are safe with us in Derby…” His voice clearly sounds hurt and Cas picks up on that.

“Dean.” Cas stops and lays a hand on Dean’s wrist, so that Dean, too, comes to a halt. Cas smiles apologetically. “I left Kansas for a reason, you know that. I wasn’t ready to go back yet.”

“Yeah, I remember you leaving,” Dean replies gruffly, still not really understanding the reason, and Castiel’s hand tightens around his wrist.

“Dean, I explained to you why I felt the need to leave. I wanted to be alone. I needed that. Silence, peace. To be able to think about things. I needed to figure out who I am in this life—without hunting, without angels, without constant dangers around me. It’s always been the three of us, it’s always been about hunts, monsters, war… There was never peace, Dean. And I needed to find out who I am.” He looks down at their feet. “I know you don’t understand. I wanted to figure out what to do next. I couldn’t stay with you, because I also had to think about you. And Sam,” he adds quickly, letting go of Dean’s wrist. “When I arrived here, I didn’t feel good. I was more confused than ever.” Cas stares at the ground, brows furrowed and Dean feels that there’s another story that Cas doesn’t wanna tell yet. “I was lost, and then I met Lori. She was hurt, both physically and emotionally. We talked a lot in the following days and since she knew that I didn’t have a home, she invited me into her cabin.” Cas smiles. “She is a kind spirit. I miss her.”

Dean clears his throat and fights the ugly feeling of jealousy. “What happened to her?”

The smile on Cas’ face grows softer. “She’s living her dream. She was a pilot, and she’d survived a crash.” Cas continues to walk and Dean follows him. “It was a tragic story, really. She was hurt in a way that made it impossible to keep on flying. Being wrapped up in my own thoughts, I didn’t think of it right away, but eventually, when I gathered enough energy, I healed her.”

“From what?” Dean asks out of pure curiosity.

“She had been blind.”

Dean’s eyes widen at that. “Must have been a hell of a crash.”

Castiel nods. “It had been a nightmare. And for Lori, it didn’t end. She had survived the crash, but she was blinded. She had no one around who could help her, she’d lost her job, so she was was a lonely soul and she didn’t deserve any of it. That’s why I offered my help.”

Dean stares at him. “Did you tell her what you are?”

Castiel shakes his head. “I didn’t have to. She may have been blind but she could see, Dean.”

“Now that’s not paradox at all, buddy.”

Cas smiles patiently. “She was able to perceive human beings, animals, and, well, angels as blobs of colors. I would guess that she also was able to perceive demons and other creatures, as well, but it seems like she didn’t encounter anything supernatural but me. At least she didn’t tell me about others.”

“She wasn’t afraid of you?”

“No. Apparently the colors meant something specific, a characteristic. She noticed when people had bad intentions, for example, so she stayed away from those.”

Dean eyes his friend curiously. “Did she tell you what color you were?”

“She did. She said I was shining like a rainbow, all kinds of colors, always changing. At first she was overwhelmed by it, but she felt that I was no threat. We ended up talking about me and my plans and…she decided to help me. And I helped her in return. She left about five ago, now that she is able to fly again.” Cas’ smile is affectionate. “Lori was so happy that she could return to the airport.”

“Thanks to you,” Dean adds quietly. He doesn’t quite know how to feel. He feels like he’s missing something and he still wonders if they were a couple, or something.

Castiel nods. “She gave me the cabin since she’ll be up in the air a lot and doesn’t need this place anymore. She lives in a bigger city now.”

“You still in touch with her?”

“Sometimes we text. She’s worried about me because I’m living here all alone.” Cas shoots him a surprisingly happy smile. “But I’m not right now and she will be pleased to hear that you’re here with me.”

Dean looks confused. “Does she know who I am?”

“I may have told her about a good friend who lives in Kansas.”

“Huh…” Dean focuses on the path that leads deeper into the forest. There are some birds singing up in the trees, but he hardly hears them. He doesn’t know how to feel about this Lori chick. He licks his lips. “So, uh, what did she help you with?”

Cas casts him a small smile. “Making a decision.”

Now that is a hell of an answer. He squints at Castiel. “And, did you make the right one?”

“I certainly hope so. So far, I think it was.”

“Not regretting anything?”

Cas shakes his head. “No. I don’t.” Well, that might be good for Cas, but it’s not for Dean, right? Because it probably means that Cas is happy here. Alone. Secluded. Away from Sam and Dean.

The thought hurts. Dean’s jaw clenches with the sudden anger that floods through him, but he keeps his mouth shut, for now. Yelling at Cas won’t get him anywhere.

Suddenly, Cas lifts his arm and points ahead. “We’re almost at the lake.” He speeds up a bit and Dean hurries to follow him, still thinking about the tiny bits of information that he just got. They mostly confuse him even more, turning up new questions he’d like to ask.

There are fewer trees now, and more rays of sunshine seep through the canopy. A large, beautiful lake lays in front of them, sparkling. The grass turns into sand, then vanishes in the water. Dean can’t see anybody else, but from the distance he can hear laughter.

“Not many people come here, since it’s quite remote,” Castiel explains as he steps into the sand.

Dean stops next to Cas and looks at the lake for a moment. Its surface is calm and blue, a soft breeze rippling across. Dean smiles at the beautiful sight, and when he lifts his gaze from the lake to Cas, he’s stunned for a moment.

Cas has pulled off his shirt and has stepped out of his jeans, revealing thick thighs, golden skin, and a soft stomach that Dean immediately wants to touch. His mouth goes dry while he tries his best not to reach out.

_Keep your hands to yourself. Keep them down. You can do that._

Dean manages to look away and strips himself until he’s down to his board shorts. “Yippee Ki Yay,” he murmurs, grinning briefly at Cas and then running into the water.

It’s cold at first. Unpleasant, really. His thoughts about Castiel had made his cheeks and his chest flush; he’d felt hot, but now the water is cooling him down effectively. And every thought about Cas vanishes, if only for a brief moment.

But when Dean breaks through the surface again, taking deep breaths, he thinks, _why now?_ Why is he thinking about Cas like that now? It wasn’t like this before. It can’t be because they’re close. They were close before, what with living in the bunker, going on hunts, and all that crap.

“Dean?”

Dean blinks and turns to look at Castiel, who stares at him questioningly, head tilted to the side. “Um… I’m cool,” he just says, noticing that he has been standing in the water with his toes curled in the soft sand, not moving, just staring at the horizon.

Castiel opens his mouth, but Dean dives back into the lake, suddenly not wanting to hear anything. Not wanting Cas to see. Dean often feels like Castiel can see right through his bullshit.

And right now, when Dean is here to save himself, and their friendship, he can’t let Castiel see. He can’t let him see all these weird feelings and thoughts he has when it comes to Cas.

Even though Dean hasn’t forgotten about the kissing last night—and that might have already given away too much—he’s still trying to…well, what exactly is he doing, anyway? Hiding, probably. Trying to protect himself from rejection. Handling Castiel is a delicate matter, and Dean’s always just a second away from fucking up, which is why it would probably be a bad idea to tell Cas how he feels. It might be too much for the angel, who’s trying to _find himself, _and _to think about things. _Who’d put a lot of space between them in the past year.

But they had kissed. _Kissed._ In the middle of the freakin’ night. Cas must already know. _Maybe he feels the same way?_

Actually, Dean wants to just swim for a while, putting some space between himself and Cas to be able to breathe and think. But when he thinks about them being on that couch in the darkness, he really wants to kiss the angel again. So Dean stops and turns around. The lake is deep now, his feet not touching soft sand anymore. Dean has adjusted to the water temperature, it’s not that cold anymore. He stares at Cas, who’s still standing at the beach. He looks gorgeous.

_Fuck._

He wants to kiss him so badly, but in the back of his mind several alarm bells are ringing. _Don’t do anything stupid._

Cas stares right back at him for a long moment as if he knows what Dean’s thinking before lowering his head and examining his toes in the water. “Dean, there is… There is something I want to tell you.” His fists are clenched at his sides, and Dean furrows his brows. Castiel doesn’t look particularly happy, so it’s probably bad news.

“What’s the matter, Cas?” He swims a bit closer to the shore. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s just…” Cas bites onto his lower lip, still not facing him. “I don’t know how to tell you.”

Oh yeah, it must be bad news. “Hey, you know you can tell me anything. I’ll help you,” he tries to reassure him, but the other man’s eyes narrow, then he shakes his head.

“I don’t need your help, Dean.”

And okay, that stings a little bit, but still, he raises his hands in a placating gesture. “Okay, okay. So, what did you do?”

And _okay, _that’s apparently the wrong thing to say. Cas’ eyes harden and he turns around. “Forget it. This isn’t the right time.” He dismissively waves a hand while Dean stares at him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but Cas doesn’t turn around.

“I’ll just…bask in the sun.”

Dean’s face falls. What’s up with Cas? For a second, he thinks about joining him, trying to get him to talk, but then Dean remembers what he did to Cas.

_Of course he won’t talk to you. Why should he trust you? You tortured him._

_You tortured Cas. With your own hands._

Dean swallows the lump in his throat and turns to face the lake, deciding it’ll be better to swim a bit to clear his head.

He knew he’d fuck up eventually. He’d fuck up their broken relationship even more. And it hurts, being so incapable. Feeling Castiel slipping away from him.

It hurts a lot more than he thought.

***.*.***

Dean doesn’t think about the reason why Castiel had kissed him the night before. The only thing he can think about is the rejection, the curt dismissal, even though it had seemed like the angel wanted to talk.

It’s easy for Dean to explain why Cas didn’t wanna talk to him in the end, but he can’t explain why Cas would kiss him in the first place if he still hates Dean for what he had done.

So Dean doesn’t think about that. He just continues to feel bad and guilty. The usual Winchester way.

When he lays down next to Cas on a towel, the angel seems to feel the tension that’s radiating off of Dean. “I’m sorry that I was so harsh,” he apologizes and Dean just shrugs. “I want to tell you, but… I also don’t want to.”

“Then don’t,” Dean murmurs gruffly, doing his best to not roll his eyes at Cas.

Cas keeps quiet while Dean gazes into the blue sky. There are tiny, fluffy clouds scattered across it. It’s beautiful.

“I don’t want secrets between us, Dean. So I am going to tell you. Someday, when I’m ready,” Cas says quietly.

“Sure. Okay.” Dean tries to sound genuine, because he doesn’t want to push Cas. “It’s frustrating, but I’ll wait.” He turns his head to look up at Castiel. “Do I need to worry?”

“Absolutely not,” Cas assures him quickly, looking down at Dean. His face softens. “I’m fine, Dean, and there is nothing we need to be afraid of.”

Dean nibbles on his lower lip. If there is nothing to be worried about, to be afraid of, why isn’t Cas just telling him what he has on his mind? He swallows and decides to ask him. “Cool, so why can’t you tell me what’s been bothering you?”

At that, Castiel takes a deep breath and cocks his head to the side. “I think you’ll be mad, even if there is no reason to feel upset.”

Squinting at Cas, he props himself up on his elbows. “Okay, fuck it. Now you have to tell me.”

Cas looks incredibly uncomfortable all of a sudden, avoiding his gaze. “No.”

“Cas!” he exclaims, sitting up. “Come on!”

“I will tell you, but not now. Not when you are already mad.” Cas hands tighten to fists, while Dean’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“Cas, you were ready just like, fifteen minutes ago! I’m mad because you’re making such a fuss, changing your mind like I change TV channels!” He groans because there’s no response from Cas. Taking a deep breath, Dean drags a hand over his face before he lies down again. “Okay, whatever. What’s Jack up to? You heard from him?” Changing the topic is always a good thing, if you ask him. He can do that, especially since he doesn’t want Cas to clam up even more.

Cas’s smile is small and knowing, but it’s there, so Dean counts that as a win. “Jack texts me sometimes. Last I heard from him, he was with Bobby on a hunt. I think it was four days ago. He said they wanted to go fishing after that.” He stares at the lake, smiling fondly while thinking of Jack, not noticing the thoughtful look Dean is giving him.

“Do you miss Jack?” Dean finally asks, which earns him a nod.

“Very much. I think he, too, must have changed. And I missed it.”

Dean nods. “Yeah, we’ve all been through a lot…” He lowers his gaze to his lap. “I miss him, too.”

“When did you last see him?”

Dean shrugs. “Dunno. Time’s been a bit…slippery recently,” he admits. “Might be two months or so.” Jack had been visiting Sam and him back then. He’d been eager to go back on the road again with the Winchesters, but they had refused, like always. They were out of the game, which Jack had accepted in the end, but he’d been disappointed.

“Does it bother you?” Dean asks Cas. “That the kid is still hunting, when we aren’t? When we can’t protect him?”

Castiel smiles slowly. “I don’t think that Jack needs protection or help, anymore. He’s learned fast and he’s a good hunter. A good man. Even with his powers only back to fifty percent, he’s stronger than we are.” He stops suddenly, staring at the lake, then he gestures towards it, trying to cover the fact that something popped up in his mind. “Will you join me?”

Dean bites his lip to prevent himself from asking too much and just nods to answer Castiel’s question. Though he was swimming just a few minutes ago, he’s more than happy to do it again since this time, it’ll be with Castiel. Dean’s glad that so far, the fact that they’re both half naked hasn’t affected him.

But, he muses as he looks at Cas standing at the shore, that could change very fast. He passes Cas and walks into the lake until the water reaches up to his waist. He turns to look at Castiel who is still standing at the shore, seemingly uncomfortable.

“What’s the matter, Cas? Too cold for ya?” Dean grins at him. He’s not sure if angels actually can feel temperature, but right now it seems possible.

“Uh, no…,” Cas murmurs and looks almost sheepishly at Dean. “I only learned how to swim this summer, Dean. I’m not quite proficient with it yet,” he admits, and Dean’s eyes widen.

“Seriously? You literally just learned how to swim?” Dean laughs. “Might be like supervising a six-year-old. Dude, come on, I’ll take care of you. Nothing will happen.” He smiles at Castiel. “I thought angels can do anything.”

Cas squints at him. “Almost anything.”

Dean huffs a laugh and gestures towards the water. “Come here, it’s not that deep.”

Castiel nods and wades through the calm water towards Dean, his shoulders tense.

“Okay, show me what you’re already capable of.” Cas stares at him in horror, which brings a smirk to Dean’s lips. “Do it. You can’t drown here. Swim to me.” Dean glides a bit deeper into the water but makes sure that his feet still can touch the ground. Since Cas is only an inch shorter than him, he’ll be okay.

Cas nods and swallows, looking nervous. It’s a new thing for Dean to see, and he wonders why an angel is so afraid of swimming. He can’t really die from drowning, can he? Dean badly wants to ask him, but then again, it might not be a good idea to bring up death when a newbie is about to swim. So Dean pushes the question aside and watches as Cas leans forward, water covering him up to his neck. It looks weird, to be honest. It’s not graceful and Dean gets the feeling that he’s like a little kid who’s struggling to keep himself above the water.

He grins and takes a step back, then another. “You’re doing great, Cas! Keep going!”

Cas just grunts. “Dean, stop moving. You-...” He accidentally swallows some water and spits. “You’re making it unnecessarily harder for me...” The angel really isn’t looking amused, and since Dean’s toes are barely touching the ground now, he does as Cas says and stands still.

Castiel is breathless when he reaches him, gripping his shoulders desperately. “Ugh… I think I don’t like swimming.”

Dean smiles fondly, ignoring the goosebumps that Cas’ fingers raise on his skin. “Don’t give up yet. It’s tiring at the beginning, but it’s worth it. You did good, Cas. Come on.” He wriggles out of Cas’ grip and starts swimming a bit deeper into the lake, diving occasionally.

There’s a lingering fear that maybe something is waiting for them underwater. He can’t push away that thought, but fuck, he will not give up. He has to push through, otherwise he’ll never be able to fit into his new life. Of course he shouldn’t let his guard down, but on the other hand, he doesn’t want to be paranoid all the time.

Sighing, he wipes some water out of his face and turns to look at Cas. “What’re you waiting for?” The angel hasn’t moved an inch, just stares at Dean from some ten feet away. “It’s the same distance as before, Cas. You’re an angel of the fucking Lord, come on.”

Castiel flinches, maybe he doesn’t like Dean swearing in the same sentence with mentioning God/Chuck, whatever. Finally Cas overcomes his fear and dives right in, struggling to keep his head above the water.

Dean keeps encouraging him, but of course something has to go wrong eventually. Just after Cas swallowed some water again, he suddenly vanishes. The first thing Dean can think of is _monster._ His eyes go wide as panic settles in—not because they might be facing some creature here, but because Cas is in danger.

Dean immediately dives further into the water and looks out for Cas. Unfortunately, he can’t see much because it’s not the clearest water. But he keeps swimming, holding his breath as he struggles to swim faster.

When he spots Castiel, he notices that there is nothing else with them underwater. He grabs Cas’ forearm and drags him up to the surface. The angel struggles to keep himself above the water. “Cas, hold on to me. Don’t fight, just grab my shoulders, okay?” he instructs him while he hears heavy panting. Then Cas grunts right into his ear as he clings to Dean’s side. “Everything okay? You hurt?”

Dean’s still alert but Cas seems to be calming down gradually, if slowly.

“I’m okay, I think,” the angel croaks. “My powers left me...”

“Did they now?” Dean narrows his eyes. Especially for beginners, swimming can be hard because their conditioning needs to be built up. But angels? “I never imagined you getting exhausted from swimming...”

Of course, Castiel doesn’t answer.

“I think I need a break.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dean agrees. “You, uh… Are you able to swim by yourself back to the shore?”

“I’ll try,” Cas answers shortly and disentangles himself from Dean, who immediately misses the warmth of his body.

“I’m right next to you, buddy. Just tell me if you get too tired again.”

Cas nods and starts to swim, and so does Dean. This time, nothing happens and they make their way out of the lake in silence.

“That was close,” Dean mutters and drags a hand through his hair, gazing at Cas. “You okay?”

Castiel sighs and takes his towel to dry himself. “It’s a bit embarrassing, to be honest. That I can’t manage something so simple.”

“Hey, come on. Don’t beat yourself up. You actually did well,” he assures Cas. “I had tons of accidents back when I learned how to swim as a kid. It’s not easy.” He smirks. “Apparently also not easy for angels.” That shouldn’t give him such a nice feeling of satisfaction, but it does.

Suddenly, Cas looks pained, so Dean’s smile is wiped from his face. “What is it?” Did he say something wrong, or did Cas hurt himself after all?

Dragging a hand over his face, Cas takes a deep breath. “I’ll tell you later. Let’s head back to the cabin.”

Dean just nods, biting the inside of his cheek in order to not push again. He’s about to snap. What the fuck is it that Castiel doesn’t wanna tell him? It can’t be that bad. The worst possible thing kinda already happened: Cas abandoning Sam and Dean, taking off for months. Dean worried about him non-stop the entire time, and unfortunately, it’s still happening because Cas _just_ _won’t talk._

The sun is setting on their way back. Summer is about to end, Dean muses, as the temperatures drop with the fading sunlight. Cas is silent, which isn’t helping the situation. So Dean clears his throat.

“Hey, uh… Did I make it weird?”

To his surprise, Castiel smiles at him apologetically. “No, no! I’m so sorry, Dean.” He sighs. “I’m not at my best these days, is all. The last thing I want is to make you feel bad. I must apologize.” He pats Dean’s arm. “It’s hard to talk about it. I think you can relate.” Cas looks him in the eyes. “But we’ll talk, okay?”

Dean nods. “I’m sorry I keep pushing you.”

Castiel shakes his head. “I can understand. I’d be frustrated with me, too.” They smile softly at each other and for some reason, Dean feels better. Lighter.

He stops and touches Castiel’s shoulder. “Cas… I don’t want anything between us, okay? No secrets or anything. We did that for ten years and I’m tired of it,” he admits. “And I feel like you feel the same, right?”

Castiel’s smile is genuine. “That’s correct. I do. And that’s why I keep telling you that we will talk eventually. But so far, it hasn’t felt like the right time...”

Dean smiles at him. “It’s okay. I have plenty of time.”

They resume their walk to the cabin.

“What about your job?”

Dean rubs his neck. “I quit.”

“Dean...”

“It was boring. I love cars, but I needed a break, okay?” That’s not a blatant lie, but it’s not quite the truth either. He sighs deeply. “To be honest, there was a problem in town...”

Alarmed, Cas looks at him. He knows that something bad happened by the tone of Dean’s voice.

“A girl was killed and… We didn’t do anything, Cas. We let it happen. We didn’t even notice. And after we got the message, we just called another hunter and leaned back… I felt guilty and worthless, so I drank. I had a huge hangover and I quit my job in a knee-jerk reaction.” With every word of truth leaving his mouth, he speaks faster, but Castiel understands. Dean can tell by the look in his eyes.

Suddenly, a warm hand finds its way to the small of Dean’s back. It’s a very comforting gesture, especially coming from Cas. “I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas’ voice is quiet and genuine.

“Yeah...” He can feel Castiel’s thumb rubbing small circles on his back and he shuts his eyes for a brief moment as they continue walking through the woods.

All the way back to the cabin, Castiel’s hand never leaves his back.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please mind the tags.

Back at the cabin, Dean finally meets the mysterious cat that occasionally sleeps in the dog house on the porch. It’s big, with fluffy grey and white fur and black stripes across its face.

“She’s beautiful,” Cas says softly. “I think she’s a Siberian; they tend to be a bit smaller than Norwegian Forest cats,” Cas begins to teach Dean, who pretends to listen. Cats are a problem because he’s allergic to them. Not badly, but a bit, and he’s not keen on having itchy eyes all day.

“Cool, Cas,” he finally interrupts his rambling, offering him an apologetic smile. “I’ll just put some distance between me and the cat now, ok?” He gestures at his own face, which luckily isn’t red yet.

The look Cas gives him is full of sympathy. “I’m sorry. I forgot about your allergy. There are claims that Siberian cats are hypoallergenic, but let’s try to keep her out of here, then,” he says with a sigh.

They enter the cabin, ignoring the cat as she sits on the porch and stares hopefully up at Cas. As soon as they close the door, the little animal meows as if her heart was just broken.

Dean bites down on his lip while Cas pretends to not have heard anything.

“I’m gonna go change,” Dean mumbles and retreats to the bedroom. He feels kinda guilty about the cat thing. He doesn’t feel bad for the cat, but he feels like he’s basically forbidden Cas from keeping a cat in the house. He’s being an asshole to Cas.

When Dean enters the living room, fully dressed, he hears the cat whining. Cas joins him, looking upset.

“I don’t know what to do. I brought her food, but apparently it isn’t satisfying her...”

“What does she normally do when she’s here?”

Cas shrugs. “I let her in and she follows me for a while. Sometimes it feels like she’s supervising.” Cas smiles fondly. “As soon as I settle down, she comes to cuddle.”

Dean sighs. “So she wants company.” He squints at Cas, a thought popping up in his mind. “Hey, where all does the cat have access to?”

“To everywhere, I guess.” Cas’ voice gives his confusion away. “Why?”

“Has she been sleeping in your bedroom?”

Cas tilts his head in that adorable way. “Yes. I changed the sheets, though, of course.”

Dean waves his hand. “Yeah, sure, but cat hair is terrible. It immediately gets everywhere and it’s basically impossible to completely get rid of. And yesterday, for example, I was on your couch for hours. I’m guessing she’s spent a lot of time laying on that couch, too?”

Cas just nods with his eyebrows furrowed. Dean takes a moment to think about it. “I don’t understand it. I should already be having an allergic reaction. There must be fur from that cat scattered all over the floors and furniture. But my eyes are okay, my nose, too… I’m not feeling sick.”

“That’s weird,” Cas offers and Dean agrees. “Any explanation? I don’t know much about allergies.”

Dean tries to think of something. “I’ve heard about some cat and dog breeds that are supposed to be okay for allergic people to keep. I’ve also heard about people whose allergies kind of shifted over time. Like, they reacted badly to certain types of fruit, but after a while, they suddenly started having a reaction when they ate nuts, but not to fruit anymore.”

Cas nods thoughtfully. “Must be one of these reasons, then.”

“Maybe.” But there’s another possibility, and Dean really doesn’t wanna think about that one. He hasn’t told Cas about the little changes to his body ever since Michael possessed him. Maybe his allergies—or lack thereof—is the one good change?. The other ones, though—the awful migraines, the ache in his knee, among other things—those are bad changes. And they haven’t gotten better. They didn’t disappear. They stayed, and they’re going to stay for the rest of his life. Dean’s sure of that.

The cat is meowing through the door again, and it’s heartbreaking, so Dean clears his throat. “Okay, I made up my mind. Let her inside.”

Cas’ eyes widen at that. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine.” He smiles at Cas. “There’s a good chance I won’t react at all, I think. And her meows are breaking my heart. I don’t wanna be an ass.”

Cas opens his mouth—probably to argue—but Dean just shakes his head and heads towards the door. When he opens it, the cat is inside quick as a flash, with a loud meow of triumph.

“Sounds like she’s happy now,” Dean muses and bends down to grab the bowl of cat food that was right outside the front door. When he turns around, Cas is smiling warmly at him. “What?”

But Cas just shrugs and takes the bowl out of his hand, walking over to the kitchen to place it on the floor.

“She have a name?” Dean asks after he’s closed the door.

“No. I don’t know if she belongs to someone. She just stops by occasionally, so I try not to get attached”, Cas explains quietly, sounding almost sad.

“Well, she doesn’t have a collar, so she’s probably a stray.”

Cas just shrugs before he looks at Dean. “What about our own food? Are you hungry?”

Dean grins. “Always, Cas.” He joins the other man in the kitchen. “Let’s cook something!”

***.*.***

While they’re cooking, Dean starts to get a headache. It begins innocently enough behind his temples, but by the time they’re eating, his eyes have begun to hurt, too. There’s a constant, stark pressure behind his forehead and he knows what’s about to come. A migraine.

It’s about to get nasty.

There’s nothing he can do to stop it. He has to push through. His appetite is rapidly fading and of course, he doesn’t finish his meal. That’s when Cas notices something’s up.

“What’s wrong, Dean?”

“I’m just not as hungry as I thought,” he mumbles, not aware of the lie he just told. The light in the kitchen is distracting him now. It hurts his eyes, so he closes them for a second.

He hears Cas standing up and then feels warm hands settle on his shoulders. “Can I get you something?”

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to keep the rising nausea in check, and exhales slowly. “I think I need to lie down.” Cas’ warm hands are distracting him from the dull pain that emanates from his temples as they gently massage Dean’s shoulders. “It’s a migraine; came on fast,” he explains quietly as he stands up. Cas’ hands disappear.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have any experience with that, so if I can do anything for you, please tell me.”

Dean tries to smile, but it hurts a little. “Thanks, man. I just need some darkness and quiet. It’ll be over in the morning.” At least that’s what he hopes. Sometimes it takes up to 24 hours until he feels like a human again.

As soon as he’s standing, blood rushes to his head, which starts to pound. He doesn’t notice that he’s swaying dangerously until Cas’ big hands grab him tightly by his arms, steadying him.

“Dean? Let me help you.” Cas’ voice doesn’t leave room for discussion, and Dean already doesn’t have any strength left, so for once, he lets Cas help.

The other man slings Dean’s arm over his shoulders and guides him slowly into the bedroom, not bothering to light the room. Dean’s thankful for that and sits down carefully on the edge of the bed.

“Could you get me some water?” he mumbles, and Cas just nods before he wanders off into the light.

Dean reaches for the sweatpants that he usually sleeps in and changes into them slowly. His head hurts so badly now that he takes his time to lie down carefully, wrapping himself in the blankets as tightly as he can. He already knows that this won’t be enough to comfort him and that it’s gonna be a hell of a night. He feels awful for wishing he could be home right now, where he’d be able to build his own nest to feel better and take a hot water bottle with him to bed. At home, he doesn’t have to pretend he’s okay.

Here, being with Castiel, it’s different.

Just before he drifts off, he feels the mattress dipping slightly. Before he can worry, though, a quiet meow tells him all he needs to know. As Dean relaxes, the cat makes her way to his feet, lying down on top of them. Wondering about how that can be comfortable, the company of Cas’ cat distracts him briefly from the growing pain in his head.

***.*.***

Dean loses track of time very fast. He’s not sure if he sleeps at all. Sometimes it feels like it, but time doesn’t seem to pass since it’s always dark around him. His phone isn’t on the nightstand and he can’t remember where he left it.

He groans, the sound vibrating through his whole body, amplifying the pain in his head. His eyes feel like they’re about to be squeezed out of their sockets. Dean shifts, trying to turn from his side to his back, and that’s when the nausea hits.

Oh, shit. An unpleasant heat crashes into him, making the bile rise in his throat. He tries to push himself up on one elbow, causing a painful throb behind his temples as a pained sound escapes his lips. Tears spring to his eyes; he can’t control it. The pain in his head is overwhelming, the nausea in his gut makes him weak and shaky. Plus, he misses the warmth and comfort of his own bed, all the pillows and blankets that make it his nest, comforting him.

He whimpers in the darkness, ready to throw up and then pass out.

Suddenly, there’s a soft _whoosh _close by, then Cas is looming over him. “Dean?” Although soft, his voice is still too loud in the quiet darkness, causing Dean to groan. He doesn’t notice the worry clouding the deep voice, making it thick with concern.

“’m gonna throw up,” Dean grits out, voice thin and hoarse with pain.

Cas squeezes his shoulder, then he’s out of sight, shuffling through the room. “Hang on, I got you a wastebasket.”

He sits down on the bed at Dean’s side, holding the trash can. Dean leans over the edge of the bed as an ugly wave of nausea rolls through him. Desperately, he grabs the bin with one hand, before emptying himself into it.

Castiel’s rubbing soothing circles between Dean’s shoulder blades, whispering soft words, and even though he’s embarrassed as fuck that Cas has to witness this disgusting shit, he’s also grateful that he’s not alone right now.

Dean gags a few times, wiping his hand across his mouth in the end. Groaning, he lowers himself back into the pillows, head still pounding.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Cas says, shortly brushing his fingers through Dean’s hair.

Dean just grunts and grabs the blanket to readjust himself under the comforting warmth. His mouth tastes like something died in there, but he’s not able to get up yet to go brush his teeth. That will have to wait until the pain subsides.

Despite the exhaustion, he manages to stay awake until Cas comes back. Dean hears the bin clattering, so Cas probably emptied it.

“I got you a wet washcloth. May I?” Again, Dean just grunts his consent, and Castiel luckily understands him. He brushes carefully over Dean’s forehead and his mouth with the cloth. “I have some pills that might help you, Dean.”

“No,” Dean croaks. “Nothing helps, Cas. I’ve tried every fucking tip related to migraines. Doesn’t help.” He groans once more, because talking takes an enormous effort right now. “It’s just one more gift from Michael,” he manages to add and grabs blindly for Cas’ wrist which rests next to Dean at the edge of the bed. “I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“What do you mean? Why is that Michael’s fault?”

“Just is… Talk later,” Dean slurs as his eyes fall shut. He lets Castiel’s wrist go and hopes that he’ll be able to sleep off most of his migraine now.

Something pulls him deep down, his limbs starting to feel heavy.

***.*.***

The next time Dean wakes up, there are thick curtains covering the floor-to-ceiling windows, shutting out the sun.

The pain in Dean’s head has dulled to a distant throbbing, so he decides to take the risk and sits up slowly. He waits a minute but finds that the nausea is gone, but his mouth feels terrible thanks to his throw-up session. Carefully, he scoots over to the edge of the bed and fumbles for the water. Once he’s downed the glass, he stands up and goes for the door, left slightly open.

As he heads for the bathroom, Dean tries to keep his eyes shut because the light still makes him wince. He doesn’t see or hear Cas, so Dean assumes that he must be out in his garden or maybe in town.

Dean takes a leak, washes his hands and face before brushing his teeth. This makes him feel slightly better and he’s pretty sure he’ll be okay in the afternoon. But for now, he needs to go back to bed.

As he tucks himself into bed a minute later, he hears Cas’ voice. “Dean? How do you feel?”

“Better,” he grunts, and shuffles onto his left side, facing away from Cas. But he can hear him coming closer, then the mattress dips under the weight of him.

“Can I do something for you?”

Now that Dean can think more clearly, he considers the offer. “Do you have some more pillows and blankets?” he asks shyly, hoping for more comfort. He doesn’t want to cry himself to sleep like a baby, but it almost always happens when he’s got these migraines going on. Michael fucked up his psyche, too, it seems. Ever since that shit went down, he whines way more often.

“No, I’m sorry. I’ve just got my own pillow and blanket to share… Maybe it’s enough, though?” Disappointed, Dean just shakes his head slowly. “What do you need them for?”

Dean swallows and shuts his eyes. “Just...for warmth. And comfort,” he admits quietly, speaking into his pillow because he’s kinda embarrassed. But he has to be honest, he swore that to himself and to Cas. “Nice feeling, you know...”

There’s a warm hand in his hair now, soft fingers carding through the strands.

“Do you nest when you’re miserable?” Oh wow, saying it out loud really makes it sound like Dean’s crazy.

“Mh-hmm...” Dean admits, feeling uneasy.

Castiel sighs, then his hand disappears, but before tears can spring into Dean’s eyes, a warm body suddenly slips onto the bed right behind him. Cas doesn’t get under the covers, but he tucks himself as close as possible to Dean’s back.

He’s offering comfort.

Dean’s breath hitches—just for a brief moment—but Cas seems to notice, anyway. “Is this okay?” Dean only nods. “Maybe it will help you a bit,” Cas murmurs, warm breath puffing across Dean’s ear. A long arm tightens around Dean’s waist and yes—thank fuck—it’s comforting, calming him down. Cas’ warmth behind him almost makes him forget the dull pain that still rages behind his temples.

Dean manages to fall asleep again, right after he notices Cas’ scent; the usual rain and earth scent is slightly corrupted, not as pure as he remembers it. Cas must have smoked some weed again, but before Dean is able to ask, thick blackness overwhelms him once more.

***.*.***

To Dean’s surprise, the first thing he feels isn’t pain. Instead, he notices a thick thigh pressed between his own legs, making his cheeks flush. It doesn’t take long until heat coils in his gut, and it’s a good feeling.

For a moment, he lets his eyes stay shut, enjoying the warmth and firmness of the limb. He knows it’s Cas right behind him. He remembers that much and it’s one more reason to enjoy this moment.

A few minutes later, Dean shifts carefully, disentangling himself from Cas, who stirs and opens his eyes.

“Dean? Are you alright?” _God, his voice is rough._

Dean sits up and smiles at him. “Yeah, I think so.” He rubs over his closed eyes. “What time is it?”

“Maybe noon,” Castiel answers as he also sits up. “I’ll make us something to eat, okay?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, thanks. I gotta take a shower.”

He feels sticky, probably because he sweated a lot during his migraine.

In the bathroom he finally spots a clock. Turns out it’s been 16 hours since the migraine started. Ugh.

Standing under the warm spray of the shower, he feels significantly better. There’s almost no pain left in his head, he’s hungry as fuck, and starting to feel like a human again. A content sigh escapes his lips. He’s so fucking glad it’s over.

His thoughts drift to Castiel, who’d lain behind him in bed, holding him. His body had been so warm and firm. Dean thinks of Cas’ thigh between his legs and thanks, that’s it. Even though a twinge of guilt lingers in his mind, Dean’s hand wanders down his body, taking his half-hard dick in his hand. He really shouldn’t do this. Not here, in Cas’ cabin, thinking of him. No, it’s a bad idea, but Dean can’t help himself. He needs to feel good after what he’s been through, and it seems that only Cas can give him some comfort—or the thought of him, at least.

Thinking of Cas, Dean reaches his climax in no time; it’s embarrassing. But nobody else knows, so he’s okay with that.

His cheeks are flushed when he exits the bathroom, but luckily, he can blame the hot water if Cas asks.

Finally dressed, he joins Cas in the kitchen. It already smells like heaven and Dean’s mouth waters. “That’s smells incredible,” he informs Cas and his stomach rumbles in agreement.

Cas laughs and fills a plate with pasta. “I made pasta with meatballs. Lots of meatballs. You will like it.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will.” Dean takes the plate full of pasta, tomato sauce and meatballs, and sits down to wait for Cas, who joins him with his own plate seconds later, sitting across from him at the table..

“You must be incredibly hungry,” Cas says and Dean nods.

“You have no idea. I never eat when I’m sick, you saw why...” Dean glances down at the food and sighs. “I’m sorry, you know? That you had to take care of me and-...”

“Dean,” Cas gently interrupts, waiting until Dean looks up. “It’s okay. Don’t apologize. I understand that there are things we can’t control. Migraines are one of them. Are you truly fine again?” Dean just nods and Cas’ eyes soften. “Okay. I’m glad. I must admit, you scared me and...” Cas stops and bites his lips for a moment, then draws a deep breath, looking at Dean apologetically. “I called Sam. I wasn’t sure how bad it really was, so I contacted him.”

Feeling anger bubbling up inside him, Dean stares at Cas. He didn’t want Sam to know about this. Of course his brother had quickly noticed that Dean started having severe migraines every other month, but Dean had always tried to downplay it. He never wanted Sam to worry too much.

Taking a deep breath, Dean nods. There’s no need to be mad about Cas calling Sam. He’d just wanted to help. “Oh, okay,” he manages to say. “What did he say?”

Cas stares down at his food and absentmindedly wraps some spaghetti around his fork. “Well, he couldn’t help me. He said the same things you said. There is nothing that eases your pain and you both assume the migraines are a result of your possession by Michael.”

Dean nods, shoving some tasty meatballs into his mouth. He chews thoughtfully. It’s not a conversation they should have at dinner, but Cas started it. “Yeah. It started maybe two weeks after you left. It was the worst migraine I’d ever had. No painkillers helped, no matter how much I took. So that’s why I guess it’s because of Michael. Four weeks after he was cast out, I not only started to have those migraines, but my knees started to hurt, and my left arm...” He sighs and touches his upper arm. “There’s something wrong with it, too. Sometimes it kinda gets numb, even though I’ve never had an injury there, really.” He frowns. “Maybe the pain in my knees is just because I’m getting old, but the other crap is weird. And the migraines, well, they come every other month or so. I never know when it’ll hit.”

“I assume you never contacted a doctor?”

Dean sighs again and shakes his head. “No, I didn’t go to see a doctor. I’ve never done that. And, well, I’m not dying yet.” He shoots Cas a quick look and it’s like he expected: Cas is worried.

“Maybe I could’ve helped you. Maybe Jack can help,” Cas offers, but Dean shrugs his shoulders.

“Nah, I’ve asked him to see if he could do something. He tried, but it didn’t work.”

Cas puts his fork down and rubs his forehead. “Then it must be Michael’s work. He really is the reason why you’re feeling like this. I must admit, I was relieved when I saw you after he was removed. Of course, you were in a terrible state, but I expected much worse. I was relieved that you recovered quickly. But it seems like I was wrong...”

With a fake smile on his lips, Dean shrugs. “Come on. It’s me who needs to be cheered up, not you. So please, let’s just eat. Everything’s okay again.”

Cas grunts, but doesn’t reply, so Dean resumes eating the pasta. And the meatballs, which are really well seasoned. He hums appreciatively, telling Cas how good the meal is. And he thinks that Cas’ cheeks get a bit pink at his praise.

Dean grins and fixes himself another plate, because he’s fucking starved.

Although he tries his best to get Castiel into another conversation, he doesn’t succeed. Castiel’s mood is bad, his answers short. He apologizes to Dean, but doesn’t say anything else. They end up on the couches in the living room, watching a documentary about airplanes. It’s actually interesting, but since Dean stills feels a little off and tired, he decides to go to bed early.

“Of course, Dean. I understand.” Cas stands up and smiles softly at him. “If you need something, please, just ask.”

Dean nods, feeling a little awkward, but he’s saved by the sound of a hungry cat.

“Oh...” Cas seems surprised at the late visit and goes to open the door. The Siberian cat enters immediately and goes for the kitchen, which makes Dean laugh.

“Seems like you got a pet to tend to. Have fun.”

“Sleep well, Dean.”

He feels Cas’ gaze on him as he leaves the living room. Is Cas still worried about him? Or did Dean say something wrong?

Sighing to himself, Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. Every fucking day it’s the same thing he worries about: the fear of pushing Cas away without noticing.

He groans quietly and opens one of the curtains that cover the floor-to-ceiling windows. It’s beautiful outside; he can see the stars and the moon. Leaving the curtain open while he changes into his sleeping clothes, Dean muses about what he wants to do tomorrow. He hasn’t even thought about how long he’ll stay at Cas’ place. Being here makes him feel better, but thinking about leaving again because Cas needs his space, that does hurt. He doesn’t wanna think about it. He needs to convince Cas to come with him, back to Kansas. He _needs_ Cas. Now Dean just has to come up with a not-sappy way to tell him.

***.*.***

_“Hurt him, Dean. Hurt him!”_

Big, blue eyes stare back at him, filled with tears that refuse to stream down the bruised face.

Did Dean do that to him?

_“Do it!”_

Dean’s hand trembles as he raises it to Cas’ face. The eyes of the angel widen in fear. He’s never seen Cas like this before. Afraid. Afraid of him, of _Dean_.

_“Now hurt him!”_ a voice screams in his head. _“Stop squirming and hurt Castiel! Hurt him until he wishes he was dead!”_

The noise in his head is overwhelming, but Dean’s still able to hear Cas’ soft voice. “Dean.” It’s free of hate, free of pain. Cas’ voice is warm and gentle, so Dean keeps squirming. Resisting Michael.

No, he ain’t gonna hurt Cas. No way.

_“Do it!”_

“No!”

Dean starts screaming now, too, lashing out at an invisible person. Someone is inside him, and Dean’s gotta get back control.

“Dean!”

Dean’s eyes snap open. His heart pounds wildly in his chest, his cheeks are flushed, fear claws at his insides.

“Cas?!” It’s dark, he can’t see much.

“I’m right here, Dean. Please, stop hurting yourself.”

Dean needs a lot of time to understand what’s happening. He’s in Cas’ bedroom, he can’t fucking catch his breath, and the angel is sitting next to him on the bed, holding him. His arms are tightly wrapped around Deans shoulders. Cas’ voice is trembling as he speaks.

“You had a terrible nightmare. You started to toss and turn and then you hurt yourself.”

Dean then notices there’s pain in his right hand, radiating into his wrist, and the back of his head hurts, too. He groans and tries to disentangle himself—he’s fucking confused—but Cas doesn’t let go and keeps rocking them both gently.

“You’re safe, Dean...”

Dean whimpers and he can’t even find the strength to care about it. He’s hurting, inside and out, and he remembers what he saw. “I’m so sorry, Cas,” he mumbles into the angel’s shoulder. “I hurt you… I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I’m okay, Dean.”

“No…” Dean tries to reply, but Cas won’t hear it.

“I’m okay now, Dean. Everything’s fine.”

“I’m still sorry.” Apparently they’re both stubborn fuckers.

“No, stop. Don’t apologize.” Cas leans back in order to look into Dean’s eyes. “No one blames you for what happened. So stop blaming yourself, do you hear me? I know that you would never hurt Sam or me on purpose. You were forced into it, we know that.” Dean can see how Cas’ eyes start to glisten. “I just wish you would stop punishing yourself...”

Just when Dean’s hands loosen their grip on Castiel’s waist, he notices that he grabbed it at all.

He opens his mouth to reply something, to deflect, to soothe, anything, but nothing comes out. His heart rate hasn’t calmed, though, that much he knows, and he’s certain it’s because Cas’ blue eyes are far too close to his face.

Dean’s gaze drops to Castiel’s lips, faintly illuminated by the moonlight—and that’s it.

Cas’ lips are on his, then, tongue prodding at the seam of Dean’s lips. And Dean goes willingly, turning soft and pliant under Cas’ touch. He opens his mouth, greeting Cas’ tongue eagerly with his own. The moment their tongues meet, a soft moan escapes Dean’s throat. Fuck, this feels good. It feels like home.

He lets his hands wander to Cas’ shoulders, pulling him in, then he tilts his head and their lips slide together sinfully. Briefly, Dean wonders where Cas learned to kiss like this.

Dean stops thinking as Cas thrusts his tongue into his mouth more forcefully, kissing Dean wet and dirty. A breathy moan is stifled by another kiss and Dean desperately gropes for Cas’ back, sliding his hands to his lower back and to his ass. He parts to catch his breath, stares at Castiel and scoots up until he’s propped against the headboard. “C’mere...”

Castiel complies and shifts, climbing up onto the bed so that he’s straddling Dean’s hips. They both groan as their groins press together. Dean feels his own dick harden just from thinking about what Castiel is hiding under his black sweatpants.

“Fuck, Cas...” he sighs, briefly wondering if they should talk about this, since they’re kissing for the second time, now. But before he can make a decision, Castiel’s hot mouth presses against his again. Big hands slide up his sides, settling on his shoulders and Dean can’t help himself, his hips roll against Cas’ groin. It rips a breathy moan from Dean’s throat as he threads his fingers through Castiel’s thick hair, tilting his head to the side. When Dean’s lips connect with Castiel’s throat, the other man sighs softly, his hands tightening on Dean’s shoulders.

It’s when Dean latches onto Cas’ pulse point that he breathes in the scent of the angel, noticing that, once again, it’s not entirely _Castiel_ that he’s smelling.

Dean groans and presses his forehead against Cas’ shoulder, regaining his breath and fighting the urge to just continue this.

“Cas...” he sighs heavily. “What were you doing here?”

The angel grunts and lifts his head, staring at him in confusion. “I heard you...” He drops his gaze to Dean’s chest. “I was outside on the deck, so I noticed.”

Dean’s eyes go wide. “You were on the deck? Here? Please don’t tell me you watched me sleeping.”

Cas huffs a laugh as he shakes his head. “No, I wasn’t being creepy, if that’s what you mean. I was smoking, I like being on the deck more than being on the porch… I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“You were smoking…” Dean sighs. “Smoking weed?”

Castiel just nods and Dean gestures between them. “Okay, I’m sorry. We’re not doing this when you’re high.” He hates himself for it, but he doesn’t want Cas regretting it later. Alcohol, drugs—once, all of that didn’t matter to Dean. Whether he was drunk, or the other person, he still had sex with them no matter what. But now, with Cas, it’s different. It fucks with your brain and if there is any chance that Cas is influenced and actually doesn’t wanna kiss him—or just thinks it’s funny right now—no, nope, Dean’s not gonna do this.

“Dean,” Cas starts but Dean shakes his head, pushing his friend away gently.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this right now… Let’s talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

Cas’s eyes widen before he scoots back to stand up. “I’m so sorry, Dean. That was inappropriate. I-…”

“Cas, don’t do that.” Sighing, Dean reaches for Castiel’s hand to make him stay. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just don’t feel comfortable doing this with you when you’re high… I want you to be 100 percent sure that you want this.”

Cas eyes soften. “I do. I want this. But I also understand your concern. I appreciate that.” His warm fingers caress Dean’s cheek, then he turns around and walks over to the open sliding door.

Dean’s heart pounds in his chest. He takes a deep breath and watches Castiel as he closes the door that leads out to the deck. Will Cas finally acknowledge what’s going on between them? The thought kinda scares him, since he usually just ignores most of his feelings that are connected to Cas. It’s just always been better that way, since they’re always busy with new end-of-the-world scenarios.

Castiel smiles softly at him. “I will see you in the morning, Dean. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“What about your hand? I saw you banging it on the nightstand while you were dreaming.”

“It’s better,” Dean answers, and that’s not a lie. It still hurts, but it’s just a dull, distant pain now. It’ll be okay in the morning.

Castiel nods slowly and turns to leave. “Sleep well, Dean.”

“You, too...”

Castiel doesn’t close the door all the way. There’s a slight sliver of light peeking through the crack, indicating that—at least in the living room—there’s a lamp switched on.

Dean sighs deeply, tucking himself back under the blanket and turning to his side. He can hear faint rustling of sheets as Cas lies down on one of the couches in the living room, then the light fades and everything is quiet and dark again.

It’s a bit unsettling, and Dean’s still half-hard from their make-out session. Thoughts are racing through his head. He’s afraid and confused and unsure and that pisses him off.

Dean doesn’t fall back asleep all night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, mind the tags. I don't like to spoiler, but something bad's gonna happen to Cas' cat and he's coping badly. You've been warned, folks.

When the first rays of sunshine illuminate the room through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Dean’s finally fed up. He’s tossed around for the last four hours, trying to go back to sleep, but it wouldn’t come. It’s best to get up.

A glance at the phone tells him that it’s only 7:30 a.m. Fuck, he hasn’t gotten up this early since he gave up hunting.

Groaning, he gets his ass out of bed and stumbles into the hall, headed for the bathroom. But when Dean’s eyes scan the living room, he spots Castiel in the middle of it, using the space for— “You’re doing yoga?”

Dean’s eyes go wide as he stares at the man who’s sitting on a mat, facing him. Castiel just raises an eyebrow, then continues to stretch. His right knee is bent, the sole of his foot touching his inner left thigh. He leans his torso to the left—_very far_ to the left—bringing the back side of his left forearm to the floor inside his left leg. When Cas twists his upper body away from his leg, opening his chest to the ceiling, Dean’s mouth goes dry. Fuck. Since when is Cas into yoga, and fuck, why is he so bendy? Why is being bendy so _hot?_ Cas raises his right arm overhead, making his biceps slightly bulge and that’s when Dean finally manages to look away.

“I’m gonna go…to the bathroom,” he mumbles and turns around. He thinks he hears Cas chuckle, but maybe it’s just his imagination. Hopefully, it’s just his imagination.

He’s beet red when he enters the bathroom, because staring at Cas was kinda embarrassing. Yeah, okay, they’ve already kissed twice, but they haven’t talked about it yet. Maybe Cas just wants to blow off some steam, maybe there’s more to it—who knows?

Dean takes his sweet time getting showered and dressed, hoping that Cas has finished his stupid yoga lesson by the time Dean returns to the living room.

And he’s lucky. Cas is putting his yoga mat aside, wiping the back of his hand on his forehead. That’s when Dean notices the fine sheen of sweat on Cas’ skin. His cheeks are flushed and fuck, he looks gorgeous.

“You’re up early,” Cas comments and smiles at him.

“Uh, yeah...” Dean shrugs and doesn’t elaborate, since he doesn’t want to worry Cas.

Castiel nods. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Okay, I’ll make breakfast and coffee,” Dean offers and heads for the kitchen, focusing on the task at hand.

An uncomfortable silence settles between them as they eat their breakfast sitting at the kitchen island. Dean doesn’t know how to address the elephant in the room, so that’s why he’s just keeping quiet, but on the other hand, he feels awful not knowing what Cas is thinking.

For a few minutes, Dean alternates between picking at the hashbrowns with his fork and staring into his full coffee mug. He knows he’s not being subtle, and he’s secretly hoping that Cas will call him out, but it doesn’t happen. It seems like Cas is just waiting for him to snap, pointedly ignoring Dean.

Dean tries to focus on breakfast, chugs down his coffee, and it’s only when Castiel starts to gather their plates that he finally opens his mouth.

“Cas.” The angel pauses as his eyes flick to Dean’s. “Can we talk?”

“Of course, Dean.” He sits down again and looks at Dean expectantly.

“You know, it’s, uh...” Dean nervously licks his lips. He feels fucking stupid right now and rolls his eyes at himself. “I don’t really know what to say.”

When he shoots Cas a quick look, he sees the other man’s eyes soften. “Is it correct to assume that you would like to talk about yesterday?”

“Yeah, kind of...” He drags a hand through his hair, then presses his fingers onto his closed eyes.

“Dean, we don’t have to,” Cas says softly, and Dean opens his eyes, frowning. “You don’t need to force a conversation on us. I understand if you would prefer not to talk about what’s happened these past few days. I know you don’t talk about feelings and things like that. And I fully accept it.” A small smile tugs at Cas’ lips. “That’s why I never said anything. I knew you wouldn’t want me to. Talking is hard for you, and recently, I’ve developed the same sentiment towards it,” he admits.

Dean bites at his lower lip, processing what Cas just said, then shakes his head slowly. “Thanks, Cas. I appreciate that, really, I do.” He smiles weakly. “But this time, I think it’s better if we talk about it.”

Cas’ eyebrows furrow a little as he leans back in his chair, but his expression stays open. “Okay. But why change our habits now?”

Yeah, right, they never used to talk. Dean drags his hand over his mouth before he exhales slowly. He’s gonna lay it all out. “Cas, can we cut the bullshit?”

Cas’ tilts his head in confusion. Dean stares right into Cas’ stupidly blue eyes.

“I mean, there was, like, something between us, right? Right from the very first moment? Maybe we didn’t recognize it right away. Maybe we ignored it, but that’s okay. There was never time to work through all that because there was always some shit going down. We were always busy averting catastrophes and apocalypses… But now we’ve got time, right? We’re retired and we can talk.” He furrows his brows in irritation. “Maybe we don’t deserve to be happy, since most of the shit that happened, just happened because of us. We made mistakes.” He sighs and drops his gaze.

“I suck at this,” Dean admits as he massages his temples. “What is this for you, Cas? Am I the only one feeling like there’s something going on between us? I mean, we kissed and, uh...did stuff, right? So… does that mean anything to you, or was it a joke?” Internally, he winces at his choice of words because he knows that Cas wouldn’t do that just for a joke. But he doesn’t know how to say it another way. Basically, he’s just afraid that Cas takes that makeout session too lightly. Because kissing Cas meant a lot to Dean, but he isn’t sure about Cas.

A warm hand settles over his, which is why Dean looks up and meets Cas’ warm gaze. “I know I have made mistakes in the past, but I learned from them. I wouldn’t do something like that again. When I kissed you, I admit that I hadn’t thought it through, but I don’t regret it. I like you, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes widen slightly as he stares at Cas. He’s rendered speechless for a long moment as he thinks about Cas’ words. About their meaning.

_I like you, Dean._

Oh. _Oh._

That’s a good thing, right?

His heart flutters in his chest, making it even harder to find the right words. “Uh…” He clears his throat. “Cool.” Aaand that’s the point where he decides it’s better to just nod. Yeah.

Dean feels somehow lighter now. As if he could fly. But that’s a bit cheesy, so he tries to focus and shoots Cas a smile, and Cas does the same in response. Dean doesn’t need to tell him that he feels the same way. Cas just knows.

“Okay,” he mumbles, trying to gather his wits, but he’s distracted when Castiel withdraws his hand with an alarmed expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”

Cas stands up and stares out of the window. “I’m not sure. Something must be happening close to the warding circle.” When Dean looks at him in confusion, Cas kindly elaborates. “I’m attuned to the warding. It’s like a slightly painful tug in my head if something happens. Maybe the warding’s being broken, or something supernatural is close to it. It can’t cross the circle, though.” He looks at Dean apologetically. “It’s a bit complicated. We should take a look at it.”

“And how do we do that? It’s a circle, and its radius is big, right?”

Castiel nods as he gets up. “It is, but I have a feeling where the warding is being affected. We just have to walk along the border.”

“Is it still intact?”

“It feels like it is,” Castiel answers hesitantly when they make their way to the hall. “But we have to see it for ourselves. What I feel is just a faint echo, you might say. The warding holds off supernatural beings, and if one of those is close, I can feel it because of its negative energy. I can’t tell you, though, if it’s destroying the warding, trying to get inside the circle, or if it’s just there at random.”

Dean sighs. That’s some weird crap, but okay.

They slip into their shoes and leave the cabin after Dean grabs his gun. To his surprise, Cas doesn’t even argue this time.

They are quiet on their way through the woods, heading for the road near Baby’s shelter, but with the first sounds of cars, Cas turns to the left with a frown creasing his forehead.

Dean looks out for warding sigils, but doesn’t spot any.

Cas’ frown deepens in frustration. “It’s frustrating that I can’t pinpoint the exact location where the warding is being affected.”

“Can’t use your mojo to find something out?”

Cas’ eyes harden. “No.” It’s short and brief and Dean raises his eyebrows, because, _okay_, why does that piss Cas off?

He keeps quiet, though, as they make their way through bushes and cobwebs. Ugh.

Eventually, they come across a small path which Cas follows. “The warding circle ends somewhere ahead of us,” he mutters under his breath, walking right in front of Dean.

And that’s why he sees the cat before Dean does.

“Oh, _no_. No, no, no.” All of a sudden, Cas’ voice climbs an octave as he lunges forward.

“Cas?!” Reflexively, Dean grabs his gun before he follows Cas into the clearing in front of them. When he sees Cas kneeling in the grass, nothing and no one else around, he lowers the gun. Cas is muttering something under his breath, but he can’t quite make out the words.

“Cas?” Since the angel still doesn’t answer, Dean approaches him slowly, focused on what has him freaked out. At first, he just sees a lot of blood smeared into the grass. When he crouches down next to Cas, he can see him holding a cat against his chest, and it’s not moving. Aw, shit. It’s probably dead. 

Cas’ eyes are wide open as he stares down at the cat in his arms, his hands already covered in its blood. “No, no, no, _please..._”

Dean swallows as he watches the angel keening. He’s clearly devastated and Dean tries to think of a moment where Castiel has lost his cool like this—eyes big and deep blue, glistening dangerously, his hands trembling.

Because he doesn’t know what to say, Dean looks around, spotting a trail of blood that leads into the next row of trees.

He eyes the cat, noticing large gashes in its familiar fur. And then the penny drops. It’s not just any cat. It’s _Cas’ cat._

_Fuck._

“Cas…” Dean whispers as he reaches for the other man, gripping his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Cas’ lower lip trembles when he opens his mouth. “It wasn’t an animal attack,” he croaks. “It must have been something supernatural; otherwise I wouldn’t have noticed the attack.”

Dean nods and withdraws his hand. “Yeah. Looks like claws...” Cas doesn’t react and keeps on staring at the dead cat. “Come on, let’s go.”

Cas clutches the cat to his chest and stands up. “I need to bury her. At the cabin. I would like to bring her to her owner, but I don’t know who it is...” His voice wavers.

Dean just nods and follows Castiel back to the cabin. He offers to take the cat, but Cas declines.

When they’re back at the cabin, Cas still refuses any help. He gets a shovel from the basement with the friggin’ cat still in his arms, and it’s only when he has to dig a little grave that he lays the dead cat on the ground, bundled up into a blanket.

And Dean just stands at the back door of the cabin, staring at Cas. Just when he thinks there’s nothing he can do, his brain provides him with a very obvious idea. He doesn’t need to think about it. It’s easy, really.

When Castiel puts the corpse into the grave, Dean slowly approaches him. “Cas, I’m gonna go look for that son of a bitch.”

For the first time since Cas discovered the dead cat, his head snaps up to look at Dean. “What?”

“Something is creeping around your town and killed your cat. So what do you think is the first thing I’m gonna do? I’ll hunt it down. Is there anything that’s able to cross your warding?”

The angel’s eyes widen. “No, the cat was the one that crossed it. She must have been attacked right beyond the border and was tossed back into the circle.” To Dean’s surprise, Cas grabs his forearm. “Don’t go. We can call a hunter for that.”

Dean snorts and takes a step back, so that Cas’ hand falls away. “I’m already here, so I’m gonna do it.” He turns around and heads for the back door of the cabin.

“Dean, no! We retired!”

Dean clenches his fists as he stops, trying to focus on calming down, but it’s difficult. “Cas, come on! I can see how this shit freaks you out. And I get it, okay? It was kind of your cat, and we should do something_ now, _before something or someone else gets hurt.”

He shoots Cas a quick glance over his shoulder, but Castiel shakes his head. “We don’t do this anymore, no matter how personal it feels. Dean, let’s call someone.”

Dean just waves dismissively and enters the cabin, ignoring Cas shouting after him. The angel won’t let him help, so Dean has to find something he can do on his own. And hunting, that he can do.

He quickly packs his duffel with stuff he might need and stomps into the woods. It’s actually pretty stupid, what he’s doing. He probably won’t be able to find anything, but he doesn’t want to feel so helpless. Powerless. He knows it’s actually Cas that gave him this feeling, but he also knows that right now, Cas isn’t able to make him feel better. Cas needs support and there is just this one thing he can do for him, and also for himself: hunting.

He knows the place where they found the cat, and that the warding circle ends somewhere near there. He might find something beyond that. So he starts there, with a knife and a gun in his hands. He walks through the woods, across roads, past small, cute houses. He probably looks suspicious and slightly dangerous; he can tell by the looks that people give him. He tries to smile their concerns away as he strolls through the town. Although he feels his phone vibrating from time to time, he doesn’t look at it. He’s sure it’s Cas trying to convince him to come back and call another hunter. Occasionally, he talks to people who don’t seem intimidated by him—but they can only give him vague hints or haven’t seen or heard anything weird lately. A bartender has been missing his dog for a few days now, but there’s nothing else out of the ordinary.

By the time it’s getting dark, Dean’s torn between desperate and frustrated. He feels like shit for not getting anything right. _Fuck_. Cas is probably pissed at him because he went fucking hunting, but he can’t even present him the bastard that killed his stupid cat. Even though Dean can’t quite understand why Castiel is so sad about it, he wants to be there for him. And he fucked that up, too.

Sighing, he follows the path that leads up to the cabin. He’s checked on Baby, the car is still safe in the shelter.

Dean’s got a bad feeling when he finally steps onto the porch of the cabin. The outdoor lights are turned off. It’s not completely dark, though, since light from the windows of the living room spills onto the porch. Dean steels himself for whatever awaits him inside. Somehow, he’ll be able to deal with Cas’ grief. Disappointment. Anger. Or whatever.

He pushes the door open and lets it fall shut behind him, quickly scanning the living room, where he spots Cas sitting on one of the couches. Slowly, he lets his duffel bag fall onto the floor, before he slips out of his shoes and his jacket.

Feeling uncomfortable, because nothing indicates Cas has noticed Dean, he clears his throat and starts walking into the living room.

“Cas?” He furrows his brows as he steps closer. Cas is slumped against the back of the couch, his upper body slightly curved towards the arm of it. His eyes are slightly closed, and just when Dean thinks that he’s asleep, Cas blinks. His pupils are dilated, and not in the sexy way.

When Dean sees what’s scattered across the coffee table, he swears he can feel his heart skip a beat. Cold fear claws at his insides as he stares at the orange pill bottles. 

Oh, no no no.

“Cas, please.” His voice is only whisper as he leans over the other man, who blinks up at him, face blank. He’s a bit pale, his hair curling behind is ears, some shorter strands sticking to his forehead. Right then, as he tries to shake Cas into something more like consciousness, it hits Dean: Cas is a fucking junkie. Like the Castiel from 2014, when Zachariah had sent him into an alternate universe. Dean feels sick to his stomach. Can angels even get high?

“Cas, how many fucking pills did you take?” His voice is rough and demanding, but Cas just manages a slow shoulder shrug. _Please, God, don’t let it be too many_. “Come on, man, talk to me!”

Castiel grunts. “L’me alone,” he slurs and lifts his hand, maybe in order to push Dean away, but it doesn’t work. It falls back down into his lap instead.

Dean grips Cas’ shoulders, feeling helpless again. “Cas, please, don’t do this to me! Let me help you.” He tightens his grip for a moment, not knowing what to do. “Let me help...”

“’M ‘kay…” Cas mumbles and puts his hand limply next to himself on the couch. “Here.”

Dean swallows and decides to sit, just like Cas wants him to. He drops his hands and sits down next to him. Dean is angry and actually wants to do something useful, like throwing the rest of those pills away, but that’ll have to wait because Castiel falls against his side, tucking his head under Dean’s chin. He lets Cas indulge and puts an arm around his shoulders. If his friend needs to be close to him, wants to snuggle up or whatever, well, then Dean’s happy to provide. He wanted to help Cas, maybe with this, he can actually do that.

Cas seems more or less coherent, and he’s definitely conscious, so Dean hopes that’s a good sign. He’s not really familiar with drug abuse, but hopefully Cas will be okay after a good night’s sleep or something. Dean has to remind himself that Cas is a bad-ass angel, after all, so he’ll be fine eventually. And then they’ll fucking talk about this shit.

Silence settles between them, and even though Dean’s still freaked out, it’s nice to have Cas so close. Dean tugs him even closer, then runs his hand gently up and down Cas’ arm. He’s relieved when he hears Cas sigh and snuggling closer, his hand resting on Dean’s chest. And boy, does Dean feel warm where Cas touches him. He feels himself relaxing a little, too, but with his eyes trained on the table in front of them, it’s hard to completely forget what brought them into this situation in the first place.

Dean grits his teeth and closes his eyes, so he can concentrate on the warm feeling that spreads within his chest while he’s holding Cas.

For a while, he indulges himself in this until he hears Cas’ breath even out. Seems like his angel fell asleep. Carefully, he disentangles himself from Cas, before he puts him down onto the couch and covers him with a nearby blanket. Cas is snoring soundly and Dean can’t help but look at him for a few seconds, smiling to himself. Then, he straightens and grabs all pill bottles from the coffee table. This shit has to go.

The first thing he does is to flush them down the toilet before he looks through the bathroom to see if there are any other bottles left. He finds two more bottles hidden in the mirror cabinet above the sink. Those end up in the toilet, too, and since Cas is still asleep, Dean searches through the rest of the house. Luckily, he doesn’t find any more bottles or weird shit, but he finds Cas’ vape pen along with the weed liquid. Fuck. His fingers itch to throw that away, too.

He’ll never forget the Castiel from 2014, who lived in an apocalypse world. He was fucked up nine ways to Sunday, a fucking junkie, having _orgies…_ That Castiel was broken, and Dean had pitied him. He never wants to see Cas like that again, especially not _his _Cas. But it seems like Cas is close to it, even though Dean has his doubts that angels can get addicted.

In the end, Dean decides to collect the weed and the vape pen, but he won’t throw it away immediately. First, he really needs to talk to Cas about all of this.

He puts everything in his duffel bag, before he takes a look outside at the backyard. Cas managed to close the grave before he got high. He even planted little flowers on top of it.

Dean’s heart sinks at the sight. He never had a pet, and he probably never will, but he understands that losing it hurts. And he saw just how upset Cas is right now.

Back in the cabin, Dean grabs his phone and checks on Cas, who’s still asleep. Then he calls Sam to fill him in. He really needs to talk to someone, and Sam’s the right person for this kinda shit.

Luckily, Sam picks up at the third ring. “Dean? Everything alright?”

“Ah...no. Not really, to be honest. First things first, we need a hunter here in Avon.”

“What?” Sam exclaims and something clatters in the background.

“Calm down, Sam. We’re fine and we’re safe, I think. I tried to, uh...research, but… Well, we’re retired, right? So maybe you can send someone here? Cas warded the cabin he lives in and the perimeter, but something is creeping around town and killing pets.”

“Like cows?”

“Dunno. So far, it’s a dead cat and a missing dog, but Cas is sure that it must have been something supernatural.”

“Hm, okay. It’s not much to go on. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, but Cas said his warding circle works in some weird ways. He’s attuned to it and notices if something supernatural is nearby or whatever… Just send someone, okay? You’ll sell it somehow. It was Cas’ freakin’ cat that was killed today, and, man… He’s really upset about it.” He swallows. “Sam, he…took some pills. He got high...”

“What?” Once again, Sam’s voice is high-pitched. “He’s _high?_”

“Yeah...didn’t know this was even possible.”

“It’s news to me, too,” Sam answers. “But, you know… Just remember the liquor store incident. He’ll recover. Do you need help?”

“Nah, I got it.”

“Okay, take care of him. I’ll text you when I’ve got a hunter sent your way.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Something else happening?”

“No...” It’s a little lie, but on the other hand, he doesn’t want to fill Sam in about his love life—and it’s not even a real love life yet.

“Alright. Take care.”

“’course, Sammy. Bye.”

He enters the kitchen and figures it’s time to make dinner. Maybe Cas won’t wake up until tomorrow, and even though Dean doesn’t feel hungry yet, he needs to do something to distract himself. He’s fucking worried about Cas. Maybe living on his own wasn’t a good idea. Dean never approved of it and now it turns out that he was probably right. Fuck.

Originally, Dean had planned to make something cool, something that needed a bit more time to get prepared. But in the end, it turns out that Cas’ fridge isn’t stocked that well anymore. So Dean works with what he finds—fixing himself a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. When Cas wakes up, he’ll have to make him a sandwich, too. It only tastes good when it’s freshly made.

It’s quiet in the cabin while Dean eats at the kitchen island. There’s an occasional creaking of the walls, the scraping sound of his cutlery, but other than that, Dean can’t hear anything. Cas is sleeping quietly.

After Dean has cleaned his plate, he’s itching for some booze. It’s been a shitty day, and any other day he would drink himself stupid now, to push aside all those negative feelings. But he knows he shouldn’t do that. He can’t judge Castiel for drugging himself into oblivion when Dean drinks to cope. That would be hypocritical.

It’s late by the time Dean has done everything he wanted to do. He looks down at Cas, thinking about what to do next. It seems like the angel is going to sleep some more, and if Dean’s honest with himself, he doesn’t wanna leave him alone right now. Sighing, Dean walks into the bedroom, stripping down to his shirt and boxer-briefs, before he takes one pillow and his blanket, returning to the living room with it. He sets himself up on the couch opposite of Cas, making himself comfortable after he switched off the lights. It’s a weird feeling to lie in the darkness, knowing for sure that something is wandering around the town. He gets up again and quietly goes back to the bedroom to fetch his gun. It’s only when he puts it under his pillow that he feels slightly better. Safer.

He stares at Cas in the darkness, just seeing his silhouette, waiting to get tired. But just like the night before, he doesn’t get much sleep.

***.*.***

It’s long after midnight when Cas’ grunts wake Dean up. Bleary eyed, Dean sits up, heart pounding. “Cas? Whaddya doin’?”

Cas sits on the couch, trying to get up, but he can’t shove himself up on his legs. “Need water,” the angel mumbles.

“Okay, okay, I’ll get you some,” Dean says and gets up on his feet. “Gimme a second.” He stumbles into the kitchen, flicking on the light, before he pours Cas a glass of water.

Quickly, he makes his way back to the couch and hands Cas the glass. He downs the water in long gulps, like a man in a desert who hasn’t drunk anything for days.

Cas makes a content sound in the back of his throat when he puts down the glass on the table.

“How are you feeling?” Dean asks as he takes the glass to refill it.

“Better,” Cas mumbles and looks up at him. “Thank you, Dean.” He rubs his eyes and lies down again. Dean scratches his head as he stares at him, thinking about talking to him now, but it seems like Castiel is already back to sleep.

Dean shakes his head, goes to refill the glass with water, then climbs back onto his couch. He’s relieved to see that Castiel at least doesn’t feel worse. He can talk, and he looks more or less okay. Well, right now, that’s a win.

Dean sighs and closes his eyes, sliding back into sleep more easily, now.

***.*.***

What shakes him out of his sleep the next time is his head harshly connecting with the floor. Dean groans in pain, snapping his eyes open. “Fuck! Shit!” he swears loudly, raising his hand to the back of his head. He stares at the couch above him. He remembers having a nightmare…

“Dean?” In an instant, Cas is kneeling beside him, wide-eyed. “Are you okay?”

Dean grunts and sits up slowly. “Fuck, my head hurts...” He feels Cas’ warm hand on his neck, steadying him a little.

“I saw you falling off the couch,” Cas says softly as he puts his other hand on Dean’s knee. “You should have slept in the bedroom, Dean. It wouldn’t have happened there.” His voice sounds a bit scolding.

“I didn’t wanna leave you alone out here… Wanted to keep an eye on you,” Dean answers and shrugs. It isn’t a big deal.

A small smile tugs at Cas’ mouth. “Thank you, Dean.” He withdraws his hands, keeping them to himself. “Although I am sorry that you felt obligated to stay with me.”

Dean sighs and drags a hand over his face. Fuck, he’s a little sticky from cold sweat. “Cas, let’s discuss this over a cup of coffee, okay?”

Castiel nods and helps him to get up. Dean’s knees are aching and he winces when he stands up. It sucks to be forty. When he looks discreetly at Castiel, he notices that the man is still a bit pale, but his eyes aren’t dilated anymore, and he looks better than yesterday.

Absentmindedly, Dean rubs over the aching back of his head as he follows Castiel into the kitchen. “How are you doing?”

Cas sighs and prepares the coffee maker, taking a minute to respond. “I don’t know what to tell you, Dean.”

Dean puts their mugs down with a loud thud. “Cas, come on. We haven’t really talked since we...were in the forest. You were sad, and pissed at me, and then you were fucking high. We need to talk about it because I don’t understand what the hell actually led to you being a junkie.”

Cas runs his fingers through his messy hair. “I am not a junkie, Dean.” The angel glances at him without a shred of shame. “It’s just that I couldn’t…” He frowns to himself. “I can’t deal with losses, Dean. I felt awful yesterday and I wanted it to be easier. So I swallowed a few pills.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “I don’t do it on a regular basis, Dean. It’s good for relieving the anxiety…the pain…”

He squints at Dean who raises his eyebrows.

“You wanted the death of your cat to be easier on you?” He can’t hide his irritation. “Cas, I get it. I know how that is. Just look at me.” He sighs. “I’m not the best example. I have questionable coping mechanisms, I know that. But maybe you can learn something from that: don’t try to drown your problems in alcohol or take drugs to make things easier. It just fucks you up… Experiencing losses is hard, but you have to endure that. You just make things worse taking painkillers…”

“Will it, now?” Castiel has this almighty expression on his face that is one part scary and one part hot, and Dean doesn’t dare to step closer. “Like I said, Dean, I have everything under control. You can believe me. I know it has its risks, but since I’m pretty well aware of them, I am very careful.” Cas’ eyes soften a little. “I think I get your point. You are worried about me, making mistakes you’ve already made. But I’m different than you.”

Dean sighs. “Yeah, well, you’re supposed to be better than me, with what being an angel of the Lord.” He allows himself to grin a little.

Cas smiles softly. “Angels are ‘douchebags’, remember?” he says, raising his fingers to do the air quotes that make Dean smile.

“Yeah, you’re right. But you’re the exception, Cas. You don’t suck as much as all the others.”

Now Cas laughs and Dean feels a little bit better, even though they didn’t clarify anything.

Silently, Castiel pours them two cups of coffee, then he looks at Dean again. “I’m okay, Dean. Not good, not too bad. Just okay.”

Dean nods, but there is something Cas needs to know. He bites his lower lip as he stares into his mug, still standing next to Cas. “I did something, though. Yesterday, after you passed out.” Castiel only squints at him. “I, uh, throw away your pills. Like, all of them. I searched the whole cabin,” he admits and feels his cheek heat up. “And uh, I may have your weed liquid and the vape pen… I just… I hate that you think you need all that crap.”

When he glances at Castiel, it’s absolutely clear that Cas isn’t okay with what Dean did. He’s now frowning at Dean disapprovingly. “Dean, I…” He seems to search for words, then sighs deeply. “I understand, you were worried and probably disappointed, and you don’t want me to do this… But like I said, I’m not in any danger. I know the risks.” He lowers his gaze “If you have the vape pen and the weed, though, I ask you to give it back to me. Sometimes it helps me to fall asleep, you know?” He looks up questioningly at Dean. “I take it that with your nightmares, you sometimes dread the nights like I do, right?” Dean’s first reaction is to stare at Cas with a blank face. “And maybe you have your ways to deal with that. And maybe…those ways aren’t always that healthy, either…” Cas shrugs as if he doesn’t expect an answer. And actually Dean doesn’t want to, but today his mouth acts on his own.

“Uh, yeah…”

He takes his cup of coffee to take a sip, then he clears his throat. “I’ll put it back where I found it. Your stuff. But, uh…not the pills. Flushed them down your toilet.” Once more, his cheeks flush, but this time, Cas just nods without frowning at him.

The angel opens the fridge, then his eyes narrow. “I need to go shopping for groceries.” He sighs as he closes the fridge, looking at Dean.

“No problem. Let’s go together. I wanna cook burgers for us.”

The smile Cas gives him is so bright and toothy, Dean might get blind. But he loves this smile so fucking much, he needs to see it more often.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The tag for canon-typical violence exists for a reason in this fic >.<

Even though they left the house hungry, they take their time strolling through the grocery store, picking and choosing from the shelves. Dean’s a bit surprised to see the angel completely at ease, as if he’s spent his whole life visiting grocery stores. But since there’s actually no reason for Cas to be grocery shopping, Dean gets a bit suspicious. Again. But he’ll save his questions for later. He needs to wait for the right time to bring them up—whenever that might be. So far, things haven’t exactly gone quickly.

They make their way back to the cabin with four paper bags of food and drinks.

“I’m so starved, I’m considering eating that disgusting radish…” Dean looks warily at one bag Cas is holding.

The angel laughs. “I won’t stop you from eating something healthy for once, Dean. Please, take some.”

“Nah, I’m good,” he mumbles and looks into the bags he’s carrying. There oughta be a bag of chips in there. He’d rather eat those since they taste way better. And they’re made from potatoes, so they’re actually kinda healthy, too, right…?

The cabin is already in sight when Cas suddenly stops right next to him. A hand on his forearm stops Dean, too. Dean follows Cas’ gaze questioningly towards the front of the cabin, then Dean sucks in a breath. The front door is wide open.

“Cas… You didn’t leave that open, right? You locked the door?”

“Yes, I locked it.”

Dean grits his teeth. “Any idea what’s happening?”

At the question, Castiel slowly closes his eyes for a moment, probably in an attempt to concentrate. “Nothing felt wrong the whole time, and now… I don’t know, it doesn’t feel like anything happened.” He sighs and stares at the door, then at Dean. “I don’t think that it’s a monster in there. Maybe it’s just a human that broke in. I just don’t know if they’re still in there.”

Dean nods and puts down his bags. “Okay.” He grabs his gun that’s been safely tucked into the waistband of his jeans. “I’ll go get that fucker.”

But once again, Cas’ hand touches his forearm. “No, you will follow _me_.”

“Cas-“

“It’s _my house_,” the angel interrupts him as he lowers his bags, too. Dean snaps his mouth shut, though he’s not happy with Cas’ decision. He doesn’t want Cas to be the first one entering the house, probably running into someone—or something—that could hurt him. But then again, Cas is an angel. He can handle all sorts of situations; he’s proved that over and over again. Dean should have a bit more faith in him, right?

So he just nods. “You have your angel blade?”

To his surprise, Cas shakes his head. “I’ll get it in the hall.”

An uneasy feeling settles in Dean’s gut. Cas _always_ has his blade, so something’s very wrong with his answer.

“I thought your blade is practically attached to your hip. Aren’t you like Siamese twins?”

Cas rolls his eyes and stares him down. “Dean, Siamese twins aren’t…” Instead of finishing his sentence, Cas squares his shoulders. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s go.”

“We’ll discuss this later, buddy. Wait.” Dean reaches into his boot, drawing out a combat knife. “Take this.” He hands it to Cas, who does as Dean asks instead of arguing, thank fuck, then they slowly head towards the cabin.

Dean can hear some clattering coming from inside. Whoever’s in there, they’re not making a great effort to keep quiet. What a dumbass. Cas will kick his ass.

Carefully, they make their way up to the porch, Dean holding his gun, Cas wielding the knife. Dean follows the angel slowly into the hall. Cas quickly looks into a chest of drawers, searching for his angel blade, but he closes the drawer without it. With a quick shake of his head he makes it clear that the blade is gone. That does not bode well.

They make their way into the living room, but no one’s there. Cas gestures towards the bedroom, so Dean lets him go ahead. Dean takes another direction and heads for the bathroom. Again, it’s empty. But in every room, the cupboards are open, things are scattered across the floor. The cabin is a mess.

When Dean makes his way to the kitchen, he sees a flash of a white jacket—that’s not the one Cas is wearing!

Alarmed, Dean follows the person without trying to be quiet. As soon as he can see into the kitchen from where he’s standing in the hall, he spots Cas at the back door that connects the kitchen and the backyard. Since Cas stands facing away from the hall, he doesn’t see the person right behind him.

“Cas, watch out!” Dean lifts his gun and sees something silvery flashing in the light: it’s an angel blade. Normally, Dean would shoot the stranger without further ado, since he can _kill _Cas with that angel blade, but unfortunately, the stranger’s position in front of Cas and his fast and jerky movements don’t make him an easy target, so that the risk of shooting Cas is high, too. And even though it shouldn’t matter if Cas gets shot, Dean can’t do it. He doesn’t even consider taking that risk.

Cas turns around abruptly when he hears Dean, but it’s already too late.

“No!” Dean’s yell makes his own ears ring as the guy wields the blade and hits Cas’ shoulder. Dean’s eyes widen in horror when the silver disappears into Cas’ flesh a couple of inches, blood seeping out around the edges of the blade.

Dean freezes as he waits for the inevitable bright blue light that indicates an angel’s death—Cas’ death. He really can’t believe that this shit is happening again. It isn’t supposed to happen anymore!

Cold sweat trickles down his spine as he stares in horror at the angel, who blinks in surprise at his attacker. The stranger pulls the angel blade out of Cas’ shoulder and immediately, more blood pours out of the injury as Cas’ knees give and he tumbles to the floor, sagging against the back door.

The stranger turns around to Dean, staring at him wide-eyed as if he’s just as surprised as Dean and Cas that he’s stabbed someone.

Dean has no time to worry about the missing bright light that he dreaded, because the man now focuses on him. “Let go of the blade!” Dean demands, but the guy moves quickly closer and knocks the gun out of Dean’s hands. Nobody messes with Dean; he reacts quickly, disarming the man with an accurate strike from his elbow before he throws a punch at the stranger’s face. Dean manages to get the man’s neck trapped in his arms, ready to break it, but then he hears Cas’ rather weak-sounding voice. “It’s just a human, Dean...”

Dean swallows, then shoves the man into the hall and out of the cabin through the still-open front door. He manages to land a few more punches into his face, kicking his knee once and nearly breaking it. “Next time I see you, I won’t let you go,” he growls and watches the man hurrying down the path and into the woods. Dean’s pretty sure the guy got the message.

Cas’ faint groaning makes Dean return to the kitchen immediately. Cas looks wrecked, in the worst possible way. There’s a lot of blood on his clothes, as well as on the hand he’s pressing onto the wound, and his skin is glistening with sweat and fucking pale.

Dean crouches in front of him, trying to push down the fear. “Okay, Cas, how bad is it?”

“What do you think?” Cas grunts as he blinks at Dean.

“Yeah, but, I mean, like… Can you heal yourself?”

An even more pained expression appears on Cas’ face before he shakes his head, wincing since the movement probably hurts him. “I can’t. We need to treat it the old-fashioned way.”

Despite his confusion, Dean only nods and puts an arm around Cas’ waist to help him up. His eyes lock onto the blade that’s lying on the ground. “Is that your angel blade?”

“I think so. I left it in a drawer in the hall and I guess the intruder found it,” Cas answers quietly, panting and grunting as he lets Dean drag him to the couch in the living room.

“I’ll clean the wound and patch you up, and then you should lie down in your bed.” Dean leaves no room for discussion which Castiel must sense, since he agrees with a simple nod.

It’s quiet after that. Dean goes to work, searching for the items he’ll need then tending to Cas’ wound. It’s deep enough to require a few stitches. Cas is obviously in pain, but with some alcohol they make it work. Dean can’t provide any pain killers—he threw away the ones Cas had had. Fuck. He could buy some but he actually doesn’t want to leave Cas alone here.

“I’ll be fine,” Cas says to ease his worries and yeah, maybe it’ll work. Dean helps him into the bedroom, getting him into clean clothes free of blood, before tucking him under the covers. “I’ll leave the door open. Holler if you need anything.”

As soon as Dean’s on the porch, just outside the cabin, he reaches for his phone in his jacket and calls his brother.

“Dean? What’s up?”

“Hey, Sam. I got a question. When an angel is stabbed with an angel blade, it kills them, right? No matter where the blade hits.”

“Uh…” Sam is silent for a bit too long.

“I mean, did you ever hear of an angel who was stabbed and didn’t die?”

“No. I think they all die, as long as it’s not just a scratch.”

Dean grunts noncommittally.

“Dean? What happened? Were you attacked by angels?” Sam’s in alert mode now.

Dean sighs. “Yeah, we were attacked, but by a human. He broke into the cabin an hour ago and got hold of Cas’ angel blade, and, uh…” He runs a hand through his hair, breathing in slowly to calm down. “He hurt Cas.”

“Oh, no…” Sam suddenly sounds breathless. “Is he…?

“He’s alive. And I think that’s a fucking miracle.”

He hears Sam inhale. “Cas survived getting stabbed by an angel blade?”

“Apparently.”

“He sure is special.”

_Special, my ass._ Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, uhm… I gotta go, look after him.”

“He’ll be okay?”

“I hope so. I’ll call ya tomorrow.”

“Dean, wait. I can be in Colorado by tomorrow.”

For a brief moment, Dean considers it, because he already misses his brother and his ridiculous hair a bit, but there isn’t a good reason for him to be on the road for nine hours.

“Nah, I got it. Thanks, Sam, really, but there’s not much to do.”

He hears a heavy sigh at the other end of the line, but Sam doesn’t argue. “Just call me again to keep me updated, Dean. Any time.”

They say their goodbyes and Dean hurries and crosses the garden, fetching their forgotten groceries from the ground.

He stows the stuff in the kitchen, before he quickly glances into the bedroom. Cas is asleep, burrowed deep in the blanket, shaking a little. Honestly, Dean is still kind of waiting for the moment that Cas starts to glow and die, as if the universe made a mistake and just forgot to let the angel die. Dean stands in the doorway staring at Cas for several minutes, reassuring himself that he won’t suddenly disappear.

Watching him trembling slightly under the covers, Dean has no illusions: soon, Cas will need some medication. And that means leaving him. Fuck. Maybe he should ask Jack to come up here and heal Cas? That’d probably be the safest option.

But when he calls Jack, of fucking course the kid doesn’t pick up. Just to be sure that he’s still got the right phone number, Dean texts Sam about it, then he gets to work. The cabin is a mess and since Dean needs to do something to keep himself distracted, he decides to clean up and repair the things that he can. The most important thing is the lock on the door, and that keeps him busy until late evening.

He heads for the bedroom then, wanting to get the room back to its actual shape before Cas wakes up. As quietly as he can, he shuffles around, putting clothes, books, and other stuff back where it belongs.

But eventually Cas starts to toss and turn in the bed, making pained noises. Dean tries to ignore it for a moment, hoping Cas will calm down, but it doesn’t happen. He also doesn’t wake up, and Dean assumes that he might be having a nightmare instead of just in physical pain. Although Dean is well aware of Cas’ need to rest, he’s worried that he’ll rip his stitches by moving, so he leans over and cups Cas’ elbow with his hand.

“Cas.” Carefully, he shakes Cas until he lets out an annoyed grunt before blinking his eyes open. His skin is glistening with sweat again. “How do you feel?”

“Like someone attempted to kill me,” Cas retorts, making Dean snort.

“What about the pain? I can go get you some painkillers if it’s too much.”

“I’ve had worse,” Cas murmurs and grimaces as he tries to sit up a bit. “What were you doing”?”

“Just cleaned up the cabin…” Dean sits down on the edge of the bed. “Hey, uh… Can I talk to you for a second? If you’re up for it?”

Cas stares at him a little too long before he drops his gaze to his lap. “What would you like to know?”

Dean licks his lips as he decides to cut to the chase. “How are you still alive?” There’s a faint feeling, a faint idea in his mind of what has happened, but he wants Cas to say it.

“I, uhm… I think I was lucky,” Cas says quietly, not meeting Dean’s eyes, and Dean feels his anger rise.

“Yeah, that was a shit-ton of luck if you ask me. Getting stabbed by an angel blade usually fuckin’ kills angels.” He stares at Cas, who looks small and miserable. “So tell me the truth, Cas. What are you?”

When he sees Cas flinching, his heart breaks a little more for him, but he needs him to say it.

It’s clear as day that Castiel feels uncomfortable, but Dean feels like he has a right to know. He tries to be patient, waits, and eventually, Cas clears his throat. “I- I ripped my grace out,” he says. “Technically, I’m human.”

Dean exhales slowly as he closes his eyes for a few seconds. “Okay. Was that so hard?” Cas still isn’t meeting his eyes, though. “Hey, it’s okay,” Dean says and takes Cas’ hand into his own. Yeah, he’s afraid, because he doesn’t like that Cas is as fragile as a human now—the risk of dying is even higher—but he respects Cas’ decision and he likes him whether he’s an angel or not.

“Is it?” Cas sounds conflicted, maybe even angry, but he doesn’t withdraw his hand as he looks up at Dean. There are several emotions hidden in his eyes. Dean notices fear, embarrassment, pain… It’s all negative.

“Why not? You were human before.”

And that’s what Cas is now. Again. Dean doesn’t know (yet) why Cas did it, but he’s not an angel anymore. That’s why he didn’t die when the angel blade cut through his flesh. For Dean, everything makes sense now. Cas sleeps, eats, and showers, looking domestic as fuck. So many times, Dean thought that Cas was acting human, doing things only humans needed to do, and well, that was just because that’s exactly what he is now. A human being.

“Is that what you wanted to tell me the other day?” Dean asks quietly and Cas nods. It’s quiet for some time as Dean processes the new situation and thinks about the next question. He decides to go for it. “Was it… You didn’t want to be human, did you? I mean, someone did that to you, right?”

To his utter surprise and shock, Cas shakes his head, squeezing Dean’s hand.

“What?!”

Cas leans back, still holding his hand. “I did it to myself. I decided to rip my grace out.” He closes his eyes for a second. “It’s a bit of a long story and right now, I don’t feel well enough to tell you. But the most important thing I want you to know is that I did it on purpose. I decided to be human, because it felt like the right thing to do. And I still think it’s for the best. I wanted that and I’m glad I did it.”

Dean’s taken aback; he doesn’t understand. “Why would you _want_ to be human? This life is full of disadvantages. I don’t think I need to list them for you! And why the fuck didn’t you just tell me? I could’ve been there for you. I mean, it can’t have been easy for you.”

Now, Cas withdraws his hand as he stares into Dean’s eyes, his face suddenly closed-off. “You would’ve been there for me? Like you were when I was a human for the first time, seeking help and shelter at the bunker?” His voice is flat but Dean barely notices because he’s fucking shocked, feeling sick to his stomach as a strong wave of guilt hits him.

Suddenly, Cas’ eyes go wide and he sits upright again, gripping Dean’s thigh. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to be reproachful.”

“No, you’re right,” Dean murmurs, heart aching for Cas. He threw him out of the bunker, years ago, when he’d needed his help.

“No, I’m not!” Cas hurries to say. “I admit I felt terrible. I was afraid… But I understand why you had to do it. There was no other way. You needed Sam to be safe. He’s your brother, his life was in immediate danger. You had to choose; Gadreel made you choose. And of course, you chose Sam, and that’s okay.” Cas looks into his eyes. “I need you to understand that it was okay.”

Dean bites his lower lip, staring down at Cas’ hand on his leg. “It was terrible for me, too. I didn’t want you to be out on the streets, but…”

“I know. And I’m so sorry that I said what I just said… It’s just that I…” Cas sighs. “Dean, what I did two months ago, becoming human… I did that not just for me, but also for you.” Dean’s eyes widen because he really doesn’t understand that one, and he waits for Cas to elaborate on that, but Cas’ eyes are suddenly glistening dangerously.

The other man surges forward and wraps his arms around Dean’s waist, although it must be painful at that angle. “I will explain it to you, but I can’t right now. I’m so tired…”

Dean needs a moment, but then he raises his arms to gently hug Cas. “It’s okay. You need to rest. Let’s talk later.”

Cas nods, nuzzling his face into Dean’s neck, so that Dean suddenly feels all kinds of hot, and it might be a bit inappropriate since it’s a serious situation, but he can’t help it. “Please do me a favor, Dean. Don’t worry, and please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry that I brought up the past, that was a mistake. I’m not mad at you for what you did and I promise you there’s a good reason why I decided to be human again. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay? When I feel better.”

Dean nods and lets go of Cas, trying to muster a smile. “Of course, Cas. Do you need anything?”

“Some water would be nice.”

“Sure.”

Dean gets up and brings Cas a glass of water and a wet washcloth, wiping away the cold sweat that had built on his forehead.

When Cas lies down again, bundled up into the blankets, Dean turns off the light and turns to leave the bedroom, but he hesitates, staring back at Cas, breathing audibly in and out, fighting the pain.

Jack really needs to get here and heal Cas. Hopefully he’ll call soon.

As Dean turns to go, he hears Cas’ breath hitch, then the other man grunts quietly, trying to adjust his position. Of course, Dean has seen Cas in pain before, but never when he was human and never like this. Because he was entirely dead for a second when he got stabbed by an angel blade the first time.

Dean breathes deeply, then shrugs out of his jacket, toes off his shoes and sits on Cas’ bed. Carefully, he extends a hand and combs it gently through Cas’ thick, slightly damp hair. He hears Cas sigh, then the other man murmurs his name, so Dean figures that Cas is probably still awake.

He hums, feeling this little pull towards Cas, and he gives in. It’s just that he doesn’t want to leave Cas alone right now, since he’s vulnerable—even more now, with being human and all that crap.

Dean feels a bit better when he lies down next to Cas, who’s on his side, facing away from him. Although Dean doesn’t press himself against Cas’ back, he reaches out with his right hand, still combing through Cas’ dark hair, messing it up even more.

Cas breathes out audibly, then his body slowly calms down. Dean stays by his side, caressing his hair, as Cas falls asleep, resting fitfully now.

For Dean, though, sleep doesn’t come quickly, because he has a lot to think about now. He thinks about all the consequences for Cas that come with being human. It mostly means that he’s fucking vulnerable now, and that worries Dean. Cas could die so easily now, even though they have retired from hunting. Today proved that they are always in danger.

Dean really wants to gather Cas into his arms, holding him tight, but that would only hurt him, probably startle him, too. So Dean goes with the next best thing, shuffling a bit closer to Cas until he can nuzzle his neck. Cas is warm, solid and smells heavenly to Dean. Right now, he feels at home, and he stays right where he is since Cas doesn’t seem to notice what’s happening and keeps on sleeping.

Dean shuts his eyes, trying to ignore the thoughts about Cas’ reasons for ripping his freakin’ grace out. He won’t get answers right now, anyway.

When he finally falls asleep in the early hours of the morning, he never once thinks about the nightmares that used to seek him out every night.

***.*.***

Cold sweat is dripping down Dean’s temples when he jolts awake. Cas’ pained groans follow him from the dream he just had, echoing deep in his gut.

“Dean…!”

He blinks his eyes open, having risen onto his elbow, and he slowly notices that he’s gripping Cas’ upper arm forcefully—the arm that belongs to Cas’ bad shoulder.

“Shit, sorry!” Immediately Dean lets go of Castiel’s arm. “Fuck, I had a nightmare and I didn’t realize what I was doing…”

As Dean apologizes, Cas whimpers, touching his own arm carefully. “I know you didn’t want to hurt me,” he murmurs, turning onto his back to have a look at Dean, concern in his eyes. “Are you okay? You must have had a truly bad dream.”

There’s a small smile tugging at the corner of Dean’s mouth. “Yeah, it was a bad dream… But I’m more concerned about you. How are you?”

Cas sits up and leans against the headboard. The blanket slides down a little, revealing a damp shirt that’s soaked with his sweat. “I have been better… I’m sore.”

Dean grimaces in sympathy. “I hope that Jack will arrive soon, so that he can fix you up.” Cas’ eyes widen, which isn’t a good sign, Dean guesses. “I tried to call him yesterday, but he didn’t pick up. I thought, you know…that he could help you.”

But Cas shakes his head. “No, I don’t want Jack to heal me.”

“Hey, I’m pretty sure he’s happy to help, if you think it’ll bother him…”

“No,” Cas interrupts. “It’s not that I think I’d be a burden to him. I simply don’t want to be healed.” Dean frowns, not understanding why Cas would refuse any help. Cas sighs. “Dean, I’m human now, and I want to get used to every part of it. I want to heal on my own, I have to endure that. I can’t rely on supernatural help all the time. I don’t want to.”

Dean’s mouth twitches and he lowers his head. “Okay, Cas. Jack doesn’t know anything yet, so…I’ll keep it that way. It’s just that…” He looks up at Cas, resisting the urge to lick his lips nervously. “I care about you.”

Cas’ eyes soften as he returns Dean’s gaze. “I know. And I appreciate that. I care about you, too.” He holds out his hand, which Dean takes without hesitation as something flutters in his chest. Might be his stupid heart. Castiel’s hand is warm and not as calloused as Dean’s, and Dean enjoys the thumb that strokes his knuckles.

“Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” Dean tries one last time to ensure that Cas will be safe and sound, but as he expects, Cas shakes his head.

“No, I don’t think that’s necessary. I’ll be okay.” Cas smiles shyly at him. “But maybe I’ll need some painkillers after all…”

“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” Dean murmurs. “I wasn’t thinking yesterday, when I laid down, that I might hurt you…”

“It’s okay, Dean. I enjoyed your company very much.”

Dean can’t help it, he feels his face heating up. “I better go make coffee and breakfast, if that’s alright?”

He doesn’t wait for Cas’ answer and is already standing by the time Cas agrees. He notices that Cas is smiling softly at him, with fondness even, and Dean feels like a fucking coward that he can’t just be frank and free. That he can’t be brave. If he were, he’d just kiss Castiel breathless, never leaving his side until he’s well again. Dean’s very core longs for Cas and that scares the shit outta him. His feelings towards his friend have always scared and confused him a little, but they were always so busy that he didn’t need to acknowledge them. He mostly ignored them, and it was okay. It was doable.

But now, everything has changed. And if he’s honest with himself, that’s what he wanted in the first place: changes. No more hunting. More time with Cas, to finally figure out their future, their feelings towards each other.

But Cas took that from him.

When Cas decided to leave the bunker and the brothers eight months ago, he left Dean behind, denying him the chance to talk about their friendship—or relationship. Maybe Dean should have known that Cas was going to leave, because that’s what he’d always done. He never stayed for long at the bunker. Cas had always preferred to be out there, fixing things.

Dean’s standing in the kitchen, staring at the gurgling coffee maker as he thinks about the past. Back then, his hopes had been high, but then Cas had crushed them during a single evening. Getting his hopes up again, now, would that be wise? Yeah, maybe Cas likes him back _that way_, but will that be enough? Cas probably has no experience with relationships, and Dean’s track record isn’t great. It had worked just fine with Lisa, of course, but only up until the point that Sam had appeared back in Dean’s life and they had started hunting again. But maybe that wouldn’t happen now, since there was no hunting anymore?

Dean bites his lip, feeling a slight pressure coming up behind his temples. His heart stops for a second because he’s not ready for another fucking migraine. Not yet. It’s supposed to leave him be for the next few weeks. Maybe it’s just a little headache because he’s been sleeping like shit, who knows. Dean takes a deep breath and reaches for a glass to fill it with some water. He’ll fight the headache with all the old-fashioned measures he can think of and maybe it’ll help.

He chugs down a glass of water, then massages his left temple with his free hand, a poor attempt to ease the pain.

“Dean?” He looks up to see Cas standing in the door frame, obviously concerned.

“I’m okay,” he says, dragging a hand through his hair. “Just not feeling great after that nightmare.” Cas just nods in sympathy and comes closer. “You shouldn’t be up yet.”

“But I felt like it, Doctor.”

Dean swallows as his mouth goes dry. “Uhm…yeah okay.” Wow, he’s definitely watched too many medical dramas, because Cas calling him ‘doctor’ does things to him…

“So, uh… Coffee’s ready,” he murmurs and pours them two cups of coffee. “After breakfast I’ll head out for half an hour to get your painkillers, okay?”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“Nah…” He reaches for Cas and gently rubs his good shoulder. “That’s a given, Cas.” He hesitates for a moment and withdraws his hand. “But I don’t like leaving you here, all on your own, even if I won’t be out for long. I don’t think that the son of a bitch from yesterday will come back here, but there’s always something or someone creeping around.”

Cas takes his mug and takes a sip. “I understand your worries, but I have lived here for months now and nothing bad ever happened. What happened yesterday won’t happen again so soon, most likely. And I actually do know how to defend myself.”

“Uh huh. Yeah, we saw how that worked out for ya.”

Cas has the audacity to laugh. “Everything’s going to be fine, Dean. I promise.” And then, Cas leans in and gives him a kiss on the cheek. Dean’s breath hitches and if Cas notices, he doesn’t say anything. “I’m going to the bathroom, to try and clean myself up.”

Dean considers this. “Showering might be a bad idea right now, because of the stitches.”

“That’s what I thought. But there are other ways. And I need to shave soon…” Absentmindedly, Cas drags a hand over his prominent stubble; it’s close to becoming a thick beard, and actually looks good.

“Uh, well… That can wait until you feel better,” he blurts out and Cas looks at him curiously.

“And what do you think about a haircut?”

Dean’s face probably gets totally red now, but he doesn’t even have to think before he answers that question. “Honestly, it’s kinda cool that your hair is a bit longer now. It sticks up even more, in every possible direction. I like it.” Because now, it really deserves the term ‘sex hair’.

Dean swallows at that thought as he stares at Cas’ hair, then he reaches out to touch the little curls behind Cas’ ear. Yeah, he likes how that looks. For a brief moment, he feels the urge to bury his hand in the black strands of Castiel’s hair, tugging a little to angle his head just right, for a kiss so deep that both of them will forget their names…

And something must reflect in his eyes, because Castiel slowly raises his hand to cover Dean’s, where it still brushes the hair behind his ear. “Dean?”

Dean blinks, then comes to his senses and wants to pull away his hand, but Cas’ hand grips his own to hold it where it is. “I know what you’re thinking about. Just do it.” His deep voice is like a caress.

Dean’s eyes go wide, and he actually wants to say no, keep his distance, shy away from his feelings... but he finds that he simply can’t. His body is already reacting to the pull that he feels towards Cas. Dean’s hand finally buries itself in the soft, thick hair and he crushes their mouths together. Cas sighs into the kiss, circling his good arm around Dean’s waist as Dean licks his way into Cas’ mouth, morning breath covered by the taste of coffee.

When their tongues meet, Dean can’t help it, a breathy moan is ripped from his lungs. He slides his hand to the back of Castiel’s neck, angling Cas just right. He feels a warm hand sliding down to his lower back, pressing their bodies closer together. Dean’s focus is completely on Cas, enjoying the sweet slide of their lips.

“Cas…” he sighs against his lips, pressing their foreheads together. Dean gets lost in the big, blue eyes that look right back at him.

Cas just smiles, pecking him on the lips. “We should prepare breakfast.”

Dean blinks and nods, reluctantly letting go of Cas’ head. He feels Castiel’s thumb pressing soothing circles onto his hip as he tries to come back to his senses. “I think you kissed me stupid,” he murmurs and Cas huffs a laugh.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Dean.”

At that, Dean’s mouth goes very dry and he searches for words, but it seems like his brain’s on vacation. So his eyes simply widen, and Cas grins mischievously.

“Drink your coffee, Dean.”

When Cas’ mug is empty, he leaves for the bathroom. While Dean makes breakfast, he thinks about Cas’ last words, which imply that he’s collected some sexual experience now. Dean only knows of one, which ended kinda deadly. He’s not sure if he wants to know about how Cas got his kissing skills, or if Cas has had partners in the past year. Because, he’s gotta admit, thinking about it makes him fucking jealous. And he knows he’ll be hurt when he hears about Cas’ sexual encounters. He can’t help it, when he imagines some strangers touching _his _Cas, it makes him nauseous.


	9. Chapter 9

Tending to Cas’ wound is causing problems for Dean. It’s not about the task itself—by now, Dean has a lot of medical experience, so he knows what he’s doing. But seeing Cas’ bare chest isn’t as easy as Dean initially thought. He’s seen Cas half-naked before, sure, but he never really had the time to enjoy the sight.

Thanks to all the shit Dean’s been through so far, the sight of the stabbing wound doesn’t cause him nausea or anything—and that’s why Dean can totally focus on Cas. Muscled arms, golden chest, the dusky nipples, the trail of dark hair under Cas’ navel, his soft stomach... All of this does things to Dean.

His gaze trails from the wound, to Cas’ nipples, to his belly button, and even further down, before it flicks up to Cas’ shoulder again—the process repeating several times until Dean feels like a salivating mess. He’s probably pretty fucking obvious about it, if Cas’ smug expression is anything to go by. But he doesn’t say anything and lets Dean renew the bandages without any comment.

Dean hates the way his cheeks flush and his mouth goes dry when he can’t do anything but imagine Cas’ body _completely naked_. Now he feels like some kind of perv, so he quickly finishes his work and shoves Cas’ t-shirt into his hand. Cas just smiles knowingly at him, and Dean wants to be mad about it, but he can’t find it in him. In fact, Cas looks rather adorable.

Rolling his eyes at himself, Dean leaves the room to find something to drink, and to distract himself. There is a weird tension between them, probably sexual, because it’s hard for Dean to keep it in his pants. Yeah, well, maybe all the denying, ignoring, and pushing down has him finally snapping. Maybe it’s been too much, and now everything has just come crushing down on him because it’s finally quieter. For once, they’re not stressed, not afraid, they’re not scrambling to avert an apocalypse, not trying desperately to rescue a loved one.

Dean exhales audibly, eyes unfocused as he arrives in the kitchen. Now, he can admit it: he _wants _Cas. And maybe Cas wants him, too? They kissed several times, so that’s probably a good sign, right?

Since they already had breakfast, before Dean had tended to Cas’ wound, he starts tidying up the parts of the cabin that he didn’t get to the day before. Castiel takes a short nap on his bed, apologizing for not being able to help, but Dean doesn’t want to hear anything about that. He’d much rather that Cas rest than be overexerting himself already.

By the time Dean finishes cleaning, he’s already thinking about what he should make for lunch since he’s not sure what to do next. But when he starts to shuffle around in the kitchen, he hears Cas’ bare feet on the floor, coming closer.

He looks tired, cheeks flushed from sleep, hair disheveled and _it shouldn’t be so hot, but it is._

Dean swallows and forces a smile on his lips. “Hey, Cas. What’s up?”

Cas rubs his eyes before he squints at Dean. “I thought about my garden. It needs to be taken care of and-”

“And you’re not gonna do it,” Dean finishes for him, holding up a warning finger. “Don’t you dare step outside and _work_ on your garden while you’re injured like that.”

Surprisingly, Cas smirks. “Actually, I wanted to ask you a favor.” And hell, Dean immediately knows what kind of favor it is. His eyes widen as Cas clarifies. “Maybe you could help me out with the garden? I’ll just tell you what to do.” Fuck, Cas is injured, so how’s Dean going to say no to him? Right, he simply doesn’t.

Dean rolls his eyes and nods. “Yeah, sure. Hope I won’t kill your plants, though. Don’t exactly have a green thumb.”

Confused, Cas tilts his head slightly to one side, then he’s shuffling closer to take Dean’s hands into his own, studying his fingers—his thumbs, to be exact. “Why should they be green…?”

An amused grin spreads on Dean’s face as he squeezes Cas’ hands. “It’s a euphemism, Cas. It indicates how good you are with plants. I’m awful; everything dies when I take care of flowers or plants,” he says, still grinning stupidly at Cas.

He squints at Dean. “I don’t think my plants will be in danger when you tend to them. They’re empowered by my grace.”

“Huh?” Confused, Dean lowers their still-clasped hands and stares at Cas. “Your grace? Empowers the plants?”

Suddenly shy, Cas looks down at the floor, not answering right away. He lets go of Dean and turns around. “Yes.”

“But you said you ripped your grace out.”

“Yes, that’s what I did.”

Dean’s eyes narrow. “So how come it’s fucking empowering your weird garden?” When Cas visibly flinches, Dean’s eyes widen in panic. “Shit, sorry, that’s not how I meant it.”

“Not?” Cas turns to face him, eyes hard now. He’s obviously hurt by Dean’s words—and he obviously adores his garden.

“No, what I meant is that your garden is a bit…unsettling, to be honest.”

Cas’ eyebrows rise dangerously slow and Dean knows that he has to choose his words wisely. “You’re probably aware of the fact that it’s not normal, what’s going on in your garden, right? Everything’s just…growing. It grows and grows, each fucking leaf and fruit looks perfectly healthy and, god help me, even though I’m no gardener, I know that there are things growing out there that shouldn’t grow in late summer.” He looks pleadingly at Castiel, hoping that he isn’t pissing him off even more. “And that’s a bit weird to me, because I don’t understand how it works. I’ve never seen anything like it. But you garden is, uh, beautiful. And it’s cool, now that I know why everything just keeps growing.”

To his relief, Cas relaxes slightly, his eyes softening. “The reason for that is my grace. Grace doesn’t simply disappear, Dean. When I ripped it out, I had already decided that I wouldn’t bottle it up for…,” and now he does the air quotes, “’bad times’. Instead, I transferred it into the earth. The soil in this area soaked it up, and all the plants, trees, flowers…everything benefits from it.” A smile slowly tugs at Cas’ mouth. “Lori loved her garden, and I quickly came to love it, too. I like working there, tending to it. So it was an easy decision on what to do with my grace.”

Dean swallows. He’d actually have liked it if Cas’ grace were still available, because maybe it would make Cas safer, but it’s too late now. “Uh… So your grace… is it lost forever? I mean, uh…you can’t retrieve it from the, um…earth?” He struggles with his words, knowing that he needs to be careful with them.

Castiel shakes his head. “I can’t put it back, if that’s what you mean. I have a soul now, and that stays. The grace can’t be pulled out of the soil. It’s woven into it.”

“So…you’re completely human now, forever?”

Cas beams. “Forever. Well, until I die.”

Dean swallows audibly at that, wincing at the words that sound harsh in his ears. “Uh…” He feels a weird ache in his chest, hearing Cas speak about his impending death—a very human one.

“Dean…” Cas steps closer, his hand closing around Dean’s wrist. “Look at me.”

Slowly, Dean lifts his gaze and stares into these big blue eyes, these eyes that appear regularly in his dreams—the good ones and the bad ones. Eyes that seem to be able to peek right into his soul.

“Dean, you will die. Sam will die. Mary will die. And now, me, too. We all die when we’re old. How do you think I would feel when you all die, and I’m left behind because I’m an immortal angel?” Dean chews at the inside of his cheek. He knows what Cas is getting at. “Choosing this human way was a good thing. I won’t be left behind, and that means so much to me.”

Suddenly, his eyes start to glisten a little as his free hand comes up to cradle Dean’s cheek. “It’s okay for me to die eventually. I like it better that way. A never-ending life isn’t something I want. In fact, I think I just survived all those millennia to meet you, Dean. You and your family. You made me realize who I want to be. And that I can _choose_ who I want to be.” He shrugs one shoulder and lets go of Dean. “You know that, it’s an old story.”

Once more, Dean swallows before he nods. “I get it, but…I don’t like the thought of you dying.”

Cas smiles softly. “I don’t want you to die, either. But it’ll happen. That’s the natural order and we can’t escape it forever. And the best thing is, we’ll end up together. In Heaven. No Empty for me, no Hell for you or your family. I’m sure of that. We’ll meet up in Heaven. Death isn’t the end of things. You know that.”

“Huh…” Dean nods, stunned stupid. He has to trust Cas on this.

The other man opens his arms and shuffles closer, bringing Dean in for a gentle but long, reassuring hug. “We’ll be fine.” Cas lets go and takes a step back, smiling, but his eyes reveal that he’s affected by their discussion. “And now let’s go tend to the garden. You won’t get out of that.”

Dean’s heart is beating rapidly. He really doesn’t want to think about his family dying, but what Castiel just said—that he’d be happy to be with them, dying with them, staying with them even after death—means so much to him. Every other angel would choose immortality.

“Cas…” Without hesitation, Dean grabs Cas’ arm and pulls him closer, pressing their foreheads together. It’s still a bit weird to be this close to Cas, to be affectionate with him. He was always kinda afraid of his own feelings and reactions, afraid of what other people would think, but it’s not important now. Right now, he’s here with Cas, who has finally allowed Dean to be here with him. Cas has even kissed him, several times, and he’s survived an attack. He should be dead by now, but he’s not, just _because_ he’s human now. It’s a bit of a paradox, actually, but Dean’s grateful. Cas is still here.

Dean takes a deep breath, before he presses a chaste, but firm kiss on Cas’ lips. They still have things to figure out, and it makes him a bit uneasy, since they both suck at talking.

When they part, Cas smiles at him knowingly, eyes warm, but he doesn’t say anything. Maybe because he knows that there are heavy emotions swirling around in Dean’s chest, and it’s better to not poke at them any more.

A little bit later, Dean heads out to get some pain killers for Cas. They’d discussed it for a while, and Dean left only after Cas had assured him at least three times that he’d carry his phone with him, with Dean’s number on speed dial. If something or someone comes to the cabin, Dean wants to know immediately. In his current state, Cas isn’t able to defend himself, Dean knows that much.

His uneasy feeling speeds Dean on. He hurries down to the Impala, drives to the closest drug store that his phone shows him, and after just half an hour he’s back at the cabin. It’s close to noon and the temperature keeps rising.

When he spots Cas sitting on a plush chair on the porch, a ridiculously strong wave of relief washes through Dean, but he tries not to show it. He doesn’t want to be a mother hen like Sam, or at least, he doesn’t want Cas to notice. Cas probably wouldn’t be comfortable with it, just like it makes Dean uneasy, and a bit embarrassed, when Sam has to take care of him just because he’s weak sometimes.

Cas is grateful for the pain killers and takes a pill along with water, then they head out into the garden again.

Dean follows Cas into the backyard, where fruit and vegetables grow. He spots raspberries, strawberries, blueberries, cucumbers, potatoes, tomatoes, carrots, lettuce and radish, but there’s a lot of other stuff that he doesn’t even recognize. There’s even an apple tree blossoming.

It’s really colorful out here, actually, and now that he knows why everything’s growing like crazy, the garden is actually pretty nice. He hadn’t been lying to Cas.

“Hey, Cas… When you harvest all this and eat it…is it like getting a bit of your grace back? You know…?” He imagines that the grace in the soil gets into the roots, and into the vegetables and fruit this way. So, aren’t they eating part of Cas’ grace, then?

“Uh…” Castiel’s eyebrows furrow in concentration as he stares at some green leaves. “I don’t think so. Up to now, I’ve never felt anything when I eat something from the garden.”

“Hmm…” At that, Dean feels a bit discouraged, because he actually liked the idea of Cas slowly getting his grace back.

“Dean?” Cas looks at him, concerned.

Dean gives him a shy smile. “I guess I still have to get used to the thought that you’re human, now.”

Cas nods slowly as his gaze slides back to the little bush he’s been looking at. “I understand.” He’s sounding formal now, his shoulders tensing, and Dean figures that he’s said something wrong, again. But this time, he lets it slide, because he hasn’t meant it in any bad way.

“So, what do you need me to do?” he changes the topic. Treading in safe waters might be better, for now.

He looks at Cas as he waits for an answer, giving him a quick once-over. He’s wearing nice-fitting grey sweatpants today, with an oversized, ocean-blue shirt that looks comfortable, and loose enough that it’s not bothering Cas by rubbing across his injury.

Dean, on the other hand, is wearing one of his usual pairs of jeans, since he assumes he’ll be covered in dirt very soon. He’ll probably have to throw them away afterwards, but he’s got enough pairs of jeans with him. Sweatpants, though, are limited, and that’s why Dean rarely puts them on.

“We have to water most of the plants and flowers around the cabin, and there are some fruits and vegetables that can be harvested. I’ll check for pests and vermin. We might have to clean some of the plants.”

“Your grace doesn’t cover that?”

“Unfortunately not. My grace seems to function as fertilizer only.”

Dean nods and follows Cas to one corner of the house where a few tools are lined up. He takes the watering can and looks questioningly at Cas.

“Why do you have the tools out here where they’ll get wet and rust? I’m guessing it’s not out of laziness.” He knows Cas is quite neat, all his stuff is pretty much in order. The tools that lean against the cabin, though, seem oddly out of place.

“I wanted to build a shed, but it turned out to be more difficult than I anticipated.”

Dean grins. “Well, I can definitely help you with that.”

But Cas doesn’t seem happy about that. “Ah, no, thank you. I can do it on my own. I just need some more time and knowledge.”

Dean sighs and drags a hand over his face, then he decides that he won’t force himself on Cas. Whatever Cas’ problem is, Dean has the feeling that it might be better to talk about it another time. Cas still is kind of tense, so Dean will try his best to just help him, right now, and the task at hand is gardening.

While Dean fills the watering can, Cas is already scanning the yard for vermin. Then they water everything, which already takes a lot of time, but the harvesting is fucking insane. Dean knows, even before he kneels down, that he can’t do it the standard way—just kneeling down isn’t possible anymore, especially if he’ll be crouching for several minutes, maybe even hours, between the bushes. So instead, he sits down on the ground, right in front of the patches and stretches his bad leg, so he’ll later be able to stand up.

Cas, standing next to him, looks down at him quizzically. He shrugs, “’S just more comfortable.”

Understanding dawns on Cas’ face. “Oh, Dean, I’m so sorry! I didn’t think of your knee! You don’t have to do that, I can harvest on my own in a few days.”

“Nah, it’s fine, Cas. I’m okay. Don’t worry.” He shoots Cas a reassuring smile before he gets to work.

It’s already late afternoon, it’s unbearably hot, and Dean is dirty from sitting between all these patches. Plucking berries from bushes and carrots from the ground is tiring, and it makes him sweat _and it just doesn’t end._ Cas keeps finding another berry bush, another potato, another tomato.

Dean grumbles to himself, but dutifully follows Cas’ orders. He doesn’t complain, in order to avoid another discussion or deflecting reaction from Cas, but also, he just kinda wants to make Cas happy.

He fans the hem of his shirt rapidly, hoping for some air to cool himself down. The fabric is already sticking to his back, and it’s just gross.

“Dean, let’s take a break,” Cas finally suggests, touching his shoulder gently. “We need to drink something and get out of the sun.”

Dean sighs and wipes the sweat off his forehead. “Yeah…” He’s already exhausted, and if he’s being honest, he doesn’t want to continue the work after their break.

But he’d do anything for Cas. Welp. He smiles at himself for his attitude before trying to stand up. As he pushes himself onto his feet, the pressure in his knees becomes painful, making him groan.

“Damn…” He squeezes his eyes shut as his knees become weak, but he manages to stay upright. His blood rushes to his head, making him dizzy, to the point that his vision blurs.

“Dean!” He feels Cas’ arm around his waist in an attempt to steady him. Dean tries to put as little pressure as possible on Cas, since he’s injured. “I’m okay… ‘S just the heat,” he mumbles. and opens his eyes to see Cas nodding.

“Let’s get you inside,” Cas proposes and Dean follows, noticing a nasty pain in his bad leg that forces him to walk slowly. Cas lets him set the pace and if he notices anything, he doesn’t comment on it, for which Dean is grateful. He doesn’t like talking about his little ailments.

Cas helps him sit on the couch, before he heads into the kitchen to get some drinks, and that’s when Dean starts to feel bad. Cas is injured, so he’s the one that should rest instead of taking care of Dean.

Since he can’t ignore the guilt that’s gnawing at him, Dean stands again, wincing. His whole body is aching, his bad leg hurting the most. “Cas? Let me help. You should sit down.”

He limps towards the kitchen but stops when Cas emerges holding two glasses filled with lemonade and ice. “Dean.” The tone of his voice is scolding. “My wound is healing. Don’t worry about me.” He gestures back to the couch, following Dean and setting the drinks onto the small table.

When Dean sits down, it’s more like he’s falling onto the couch and it’s far from graceful. He groans and lets his head flop onto the back of the couch, relaxing a bit into the cushions behind him. “Fuck. Sorry, I’m probably sweating on your couch right now.”

“It’s okay, Dean.” When Dean lets his head loll a bit to the side so that he can see Cas’ face, he notices Cas’ remorse. “Just take it easy.” Dean had actually anticipated more apologies from Cas, but he doesn’t add anything. Instead, he just hands Dean the lemonade.

They drink in companionable silence. The cool liquid is good for him and Dean relaxes visibly, but his aches and pains unfortunately don’t disappear. But that doesn’t stop a Winchester. There’s still some work to do, so Dean forces himself to get up and head towards the door. “Let’s finish this.”

“Dean, wait,” Cas calls out for him, so Dean stops and turns around, looking at Cas quizzically. “You’re still limping. We don’t need to harvest everything today. It can wait.” There it is again, the remorse on Cas’ face.

Dean’s heart warms a bit at Cas’ care. “It’s okay,” he tries to reassure him, but Cas won’t have it.

“No, it’s not.” He gets up from the couch. “I forced you into this, and now you’re hurting…”

“Cas, come on. It’s just gardening, I can do that.”

“Yes, you can, but not without being in pain.” Cas ruffles his hair, messing it up completely, then he comes closer. “I appreciate your help, Dean. But let’s call it a day. Maybe we can finish this tomorrow. I don’t want to put you into more pain.”

Dean doesn’t know why, but he just can’t let go. He feels like he’s disappointing Cas. Again. First, he couldn’t find the thing that killed Cas’ cat, and now he can’t even help him with this stupid garden. Dean feels anger at himself and defiance bubbling up in his chest.

“It’s okay, Cas. Stop worrying,” he says brusquely, then he turns around and opens the door a bit too forcefully, leaving Cas behind. It seems to convey the message, since Castiel neither follows him nor calls after him.

He can only hope that Cas knows that Dean isn’t angry at him, but at himself. Dean needs to do this; he doesn’t want to let Cas down.

Kneeling down is even more painful now, and when Dean stretches his leg to get more comfortable on the ground, he knows he won’t get up easily. Luckily, there are only about fifteen patches left that need to be harvested. Most of the containers are full and the last berries just barely fit in.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Dean takes a deep breath. The sun is already setting, the temperature luckily dropping. Getting back on his feet shoots a sharp pain through his knee down into his ankle and for a moment, he thinks he’s pulled a muscle, but when he takes a step, it’s only the same phantom pain he’s had since Michael left him.

When Dean brings two buckets full of fruit to the cabin, Cas opens the backdoor and waves him in. “I’ll show you the way to the basement.” He looks concerned, but he doesn’t ask Dean how he feels.

Cas trails behind him back to the garden after Dean has put the buckets onto a shelf in the basement. When Cas bends down in the backyard to grab a bucket himself, Dean takes it from Cas’ hand. “No, come on. You shouldn’t strain your shoulder.”

He sees Cas’ jaw working, but he doesn’t protest, just nods and lets Dean handle the other containers. It takes him ten minutes to store everything in the basement, and he’s still fucking limping. It bothers him. It’s not just the obvious display of pain and discomfort that bothers him, but that limping is a sign of weakness, too. He hates himself for it because he’s supposed to take care of Cas, to protect him, but what is Dean’s ‘help’ worth, right now?

“Dean.” They’re standing in the kitchen after Cas has closed the door to the backyard. “Take a painkiller.” Cas shuffles around in the cabinet for a moment, then turns around with a pill in one hand and a glass of water in the other. His voice is firm, and Dean knows that arguing isn’t going to work here, so he takes the pill and pops into his mouth before he sips some of the water. “Go take a shower, you’ll feel better afterwards.”

Dean only nods before he heads to the bedroom, retrieving fresh and comfortable clothes, before he enters the bathroom. He feels badly enough to let Cas order him around, and when Dean’s being honest with himself, Cas’ ideas are good. The painkillers will relieve his aches and by tomorrow, he’ll probably feel normal again.

Taking a shower is great. The hot water eases the tension out of his shoulders and relaxes his strained muscles. Dean takes his time soaping himself up, washing away all the gross sweat.

When he steps out of the shower, he notices that the pain in his knee has reduced, and so has the limping, probably. Although the pain isn’t entirely gone, Dean takes it as a win that it’s fading. Obviously, the painkillers work.

It smells wonderful in the hall, indicating that Cas is cooking. He quickly makes his way to the kitchen.

When Cas notices him, he shoots Dean a lopsided smile. “I hope I’m at least allowed to cook.”

Dean smiles softly at him. “If working in the kitchen doesn’t cause you any pain, then it’s okay I guess.”

Cas nods and turns to the stove again. “I’m okay, Dean. Honestly. I’m not straining my shoulder.” Cas throws him a look over his shoulder. “How are you feeling? Better now?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, the shower and the painkillers helped a lot.”

“I knew they would.” Cas looks pleased with himself as he turns back to the stove.

“What are you cooking, you smug bastard?”

This elicits a laugh. “I’m making meatloaf.”

“Sounds awesome. It already smells great.”

“Thank you.” Cas smiles at him, then Dean makes himself useful, although he’s still exhausted from gardening. He half-expects Cas to protest and ordering him to sit down, but it doesn’t happen.

A while later, they’re both sitting on the front porch, relaxing after their delicious meal with fresh lemonade standing on the table. “You’re a great cook, Cas. You learned fast.”

“Thank you, Dean. I was very interested in cooking and so I practiced a lot, as soon as I was human, because being able to taste is quite a prerequisite.”

Dean rubs his neck with one hand. “So, how long have you been human now?”

Cas produces the vape pen from the pocket of his sweatpants and turns it on. “I think it’s a bit more than two months now,” he answers before he takes a pull from the pen.

“And you’ve been alone since then?”

Cas shakes his head and hands Dean the pen. “The first few weeks, Lori was still here with me, helping me to adjust. She’s been gone for about four weeks now.”

Dean tries to remember what Cas had told him about her. “She’s back to work? Flying airplanes?”

When Cas nods, Dean inhales the smoke from the pen, exhaling it slowly. Before he can ask another question, Cas has one for him.

“Why do you think I’m smoking weed?” He glances at Dean sideways. “I’m grateful that you gave me my pen back, by the way,” he says wryly while looking at Dean, waiting for him to answer the question.

“Uh, well… Dunno, most of the times people smoke to relax, I guess?” Dean himself had never been a smoker. Sure, he’d tried it and hated it, but kept on smoking to be the cool one. Eventually, though, when he grew older, he’d stopped.

Cas gives him a small smile and takes the vape pen back. “Yes, relaxing isn’t wrong. For me, specifically, it’s for relaxing at night.” Cas’ eyebrows furrow as he stares down at the vape pen in his hand. “I’ll speak frankly, Dean. When I decided to become human again, I didn’t know what I’d be getting myself into.” Dean’s eyes widen in surprise. “I had forgotten how _strong_ human emotions are. Confusing, diverse. And you know how guilty I often felt when I had been an angel. But now, being human… everything just keeps crashing down on me.” Cas rubs his forehead with his fingers, before he lifts the pen to his mouth, breathing in some smoke.

Dean’s already beginning to have a vague idea about how Cas must be feeling, about what’s going on with him.

“Although I am human now, I haven’t forgotten what happened. There is so much of it, and it’s burned into my brain, into my core. And there are so many horrible things I remember… Things I did. Things that happened because I _let _them happen. Things that were done to me…” He sighs and closes his eyes for a moment. “I have a shit-ton of nightmares, Dean. Every time I fall asleep, another memory comes haunting me. I think you understand. It seems like you’re experiencing the same.” Dean swallows and nods. He can fucking relate. And with Cas having been an angel for millennia, Dean assumes that his nightmares are even worse.

“At the best of times, I can sleep for one hour before I wake up again. When it started, it got bad very quickly, so I needed something to help me sleep. Up to now, it’s been smoking weed. I have to admit, I need a decent amount in order to be able to sleep for even a few hours.” He sighs. “Maybe I’m already addicted to it.” He lifts his gaze and looks Dean in the eye. “But I can assure you that the pills you saw aren’t a problem. That’s a whole other story. And I’ll avoid them from now on, as you wished.”

Dean swallows and stares at Cas as he takes another pull. Takes in the sight of his chapped lips wrapped around the head of the pen, his cheeks hollowing as he inhales the smoke.

Dean clears his throat and takes a sip from his lemonade before he speaks up. “Yeah, I guess I know how you feel, at least a bit. I wish I could give you tips on that, but, uh… Well, you’ve seen that I have trouble coping with all the shit we’ve experienced. And I don’t think that weed will solve the problem.”

Cas nods in agreement. “You’re right, it doesn’t. But at least it helps me get some sleep, for now.”

Dean smiles weakly. “You know, Sam probably would say that you should talk about it. To someone. Anyone.”

Cas snorts. “Yes, Dean. Because ordinary people can definitely handle hearing about my history.”

“Talk to Sam or me, then. We’ve been through almost the same, and we understand the circumstances.”

Cas looks at him with a crooked smile. “Your advice is talking, Dean? _Your _advice?”

Dean laughs at that, snatching the vape pen out of Cas’ hand. “Fuck you, Cas. You know what I mean. It’ll probably really help, at least a bit.”

“Then you start. You need to talk, too. You’re having trouble sleeping, as well.”

Dean sighs and takes a pull from the pen, just to get a few more seconds before answering. He closes his eyes, enjoying the way the smoke scratches his throat.

He’s stalling, and Cas seems to notice. “What do you dream about?” Cas asks and Dean decides he’s gotta answer since Cas opened up to him, too. He stares at the fading sunlight.

“It’s, uh…this and that. Unpleasant shit I’ve been through. Often, it’s memories.”

“What was your last nightmare about? Last night, when I had to wake you up because you started to hurt yourself.”

“Uh…” Dean starts to feel uneasy. Dragging all that crap to the surface, reliving it, how’s that gonna help? He already feels more awful than before.

“It was about you.” At first, Cas doesn’t understand and his eyebrows rise. Dean swallows, because there’s something he never told Cas. He never considered it a good idea. “You know when, uh… When Michael captured you? And Sam?” Cas’ eyes widen in shock, as understanding dawns on him. “I remember bits and pieces because he, uh…kind of woke me up for it. I saw what he did to you… I mean, it was like I was doing it, and, uh… yeah… So, that’s what the dream was about.” His voice cracks at the end and he buries his face in one hand to get ahold of himself. He’s close to being overwhelmed by his memories. He always tries not to think about the time when Michael had possessed him and maybe that’s why the nightmares haunt him——repressed emotional shit.

The next thing he notices is Cas’ warm hand on his knee, so Dean opens his eyes and stares right into sparkling blue eyes. Cas is crouching in front of him, gently squeezing his leg.

“Dean… I…” He struggles for words, but the right ones don’t seem to come, so he surges forward into Dean’s arms.

“Careful, Cas, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

But Cas just hugs Dean tightly. “I’m so sorry that you had to endure that, Dean. I hoped that you wouldn’t be witness of that. It must have been unbearably painful to watch that and not be able to help.”

Dean slowly sinks into the hug, wrapping his arms carefully around Cas’ middle. “It’s me who should apologize, Cas.”

“No.” Cas’ voice is firm, edging on angry. “It’s not your fault. You never chose to hurt us. I’m not blaming you, and neither is Sam.”

“Tell me, when you look at me—don’t you see _him _sometimes?” Dean hears himself whisper. It’s one of the darkest thoughts that swirl around in his mind. One of his biggest concerns. “Don’t you worry that he might be back…? Don’t you… Aren’t you afraid sometimes, when you look at me?”

Slowly, Cas leans back so that he can look Dean straight into the eyes, hands gripping his shoulders firmly. “No. I see only you, Dean. Did I give you the feeling that I’m afraid of you? If so, I must apologize. It’s still hard for me to get all my emotions and reactions just right. But I trust you, Dean. I wouldn’t have invited you here if I blamed you for what happened, or if I were scared. Please, don’t do this to yourself. We are okay.”

They stare at each other for a long time as Dean processes the words. The sun disappears behind the horizon, casting long shadows along the porch. When Dean eventually blinks, Cas puts his second hand on Dean’s thigh, pushing himself up a bit, just to shuffle closer and then, suddenly, Dean’s got a lap full of Cas. He squeezes himself onto the chair, straddling Dean’s thighs, and Dean can’t help himself but moan into Cas’ hot mouth, which suddenly presses insistently on his own.

Castiel uses that moment of parted lips to push his tongue into Dean’s mouth, taking Dean apart with each swipe. That elicits another moan from Dean, this time sounding definitely needy.

When Cas pulls away, just a bit, his breath comes out in short, hot puffs against Dean’s spit-slick lips.

“Fuck, Cas… Your mouth…” Dean mutters and raises a hand, dragging a finger over Castiel’s soft lower lip that glistens with saliva.

A smirk tugs at the corner of Cas’ mouth before he leans in again, pressing himself against Dean body. And then he’s grinding down, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Dean. Fuck, that feels good.

Cas sucks Dean‘s lower lip into his mouth, nibbling gently at it, while he keeps grinding against Dean. Dean’s hands find Cas’ hips, following Cas’ rhythm and pressing him closer. The other man sighs into the kiss, hands framing Dean’s face and scraping across his day-old stubble.

Absentmindedly, Dean remembers that he needs to shave, like, yesterday, but then Cas’ fingers wander down his chest and tease one of his nipples, sending a spark of pleasure right to Dean’s dick, which finally picks up on what’s happening.

Cas’ tongue is pushing its way into his mouth again and Dean is so surprised, so overwhelmed that he just lets Cas have his way and fuck, does it feel good. With Cas moving sinfully on top of him, pleasure is building slowly but steadily at the base of his spine, his balls slowly tightening. Dean would be embarrassed by the fact that Cas turns him on so easily, but well, it’s Cas, and he never imagined he’d be able to act on his feelings any time soon, if ever.

Dean’s brain is already shutting down, and that’s why he lets his hands roam Cas’ body—a complete mistake, because eventually, he touches Cas’ sore spot, making the ex-angel flinch visibly.

Immediately, Dean withdraws his hands and stares at him, wide-eyed. “Oh, sorry. Fuck… I wasn’t thinking.”

Cas grins at him. “That much is obvious. Means I’m doing a good job.”

“You’re fishing for compliments here?”

Cas just keeps grinning and presses a soft kiss to Dean’s lip, before he leans back again, hands still lingering on Dean’s chest. “Maybe we should do this later, when I’m better.”

Dean is a bit disappointed, but he totally understands. “Yeah, sure.” He lifts his hands and cups Cas’ face, thumbing across his stubbled jaw. “’M sorry I hurt you.”

Cas just shakes his head softly before he kisses him sweetly again, then he carefully stands up. Dean helps him get to his feet, then follows him. “Let’s head inside?”

Cas nods. “Yes. I must admit, I’m tired again.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty beat, myself.”

“Of course you are. You worked a lot today. I’m grateful for that.”

Dean claps him on his good shoulder. “It’s alright, Cas. It was the least that I could do for you.”

Cas’ eyes soften. “Dean, you’re not here just to be of service.”

“I’m happy to help, Cas.”

Cas sighs and eyes him with fondness in his eyes. “Let’s discuss that later.”

When they’re inside the cabin again, Dean grabs Cas’ wrist. “Hey, uhm… This whole time I thought you didn’t sleep at all, what with being an angel, you know. But uh… Now that I know, you want to sleep in your bed again?”

Cas smiles softly at him. “It’s okay, Dean. I barely sleep, so it doesn’t matter to me if I’m lying in my bed or on the couch.”

Dean rubs his neck and looks down at the floor. “Uh, yeah, okay… But…” He searches for words, desperately thinking of a subtle way to ask Cas to stay in his bed together with Dean.

He bites his lower lip, staring at Cas, and secretly hoping for him to catch up on what the problem is. But Castiel only tilts his head and looks at him quizzically, looking fucking adorable with that bed hair and his sparkling blue eyes.

“Stay with me?” he finally manages to breathe out, and for a moment Cas goes very still, then he’s beaming at him. It’s beautiful and Dean’s heart flutters in his chest.

“If that’s what you want, Dean. I’d be happy to sleep with you in the bed.”

Dean smiles, relief flooding his system. “Okay. Then let’s grab your things and bring them back to your bedroom.”

While he follows Cas to the closet where he’s apparently keeping blankets and pillows, he stares at the back of Cas’ head, feeling oddly happy. Even though their little make-out session didn’t work out, there will surely be another.

Maybe Dean can stick around longer than he’d initially thought. And maybe—just maybe—he can convince Cas to come back with him. Back to Kansas.

Back to his family.


	10. Chapter 10

Lying in bed with Cas is freaking _fantastic._ His body is warm and solid next to Dean’s and—most importantly—almost naked. Without even talking about it, they both had stripped down to only their boxer-briefs before they’d climbed onto the bed.

Cas curled up beside him, lying on his uninjured shoulder, and Dean had decided to take this opportunity and had slid right behind Cas, inching as close as possible before he’d pulled up the blanket to cover their bodies.

Cas had sighed in approval, which had given Dean the courage to wrap his arm around Cas’ waist, his hand splayed out across the other man’s chest, his legs nestled comfortably behind Cas’.

It’s nice, and what’s even nicer is that there’s nothing in Dean’s head that’s bothering about this being inappropriate. This situation is not as awkward as he’d thought. For a very long time, he’d thought that he was only into girls, but after Cas became a friend—a family member, even—something had changed. It had taken Dean awhile to figure out that he _like_-liked Cas, and some more time to accept it, but for a few years now, he’s known he was into Cas. Just him. It hadn’t been important that Cas was male—or at least occupied a male vessel. Since the moment he’d been sure that Sam would be okay with it if he knew, Dean had relaxed. And besides, there was always shit going on, so there’d never been a right time to share his thoughts with Cas, anyway.

Now, he’s lying here comfortably with Cas, pressing him to his chest. Dean wonders if he should tell Sam—but then again, Cas wants Dean to leave someday, so what’s the point in telling Sam?

Dean shifts, now a bit sour due to his stupid thoughts, and he tries to come up with something that will distract him.

“Hey, Cas…”

Cas grunts quietly, as if he’s almost asleep.

“You haven’t told me yet why you ripped out your grace anyway,” Dean mumbles against Cas’ neck and as soon as he’s said the words, he feels Cas stiffen in his arms. Immediately, Dean wishes he could take back the question, no matter how curious he is. He doesn’t want Cas to clam up, or throw him out of the bed.

“Dean, I… I don’t think it’s the right time to talk about that,” Cas says hesitantly.

Dean sighs, tightening his grip on Cas, for some reason. Maybe so he can’t run away.

“Yeah, well… Never seems to be the right time.”

As Dean’s feared, Cas pushes his hand aside and slowly sits up.

“Cas, please… Stay.”

Cas turns to him, his brows furrowed. “I’m not going anywhere, Dean.” He sighs heavily before he turns around again, his back to Dean so that he can’t see Cas’ face. He’s a little relieved by Cas’ reassurance that he won’t leave the room for now, but still, Dean gets a twisted feeling in his stomach.

“I’m aware that you didn’t like it when I left. I didn’t understand why it was such a problem for you, though. I thought you and Sam would be fine without me. That’s what we did for all those years, right? I didn’t stay in the bunker, I had things to do, so I left.

We promised each other we would stop hunting. And that’s exactly what I did. And for the first time, I had nothing to do. I needed to figure out what I wanted from the rest of my life. My immortal life,” he adds absently, staring down. “I wanted to get out, Dean… Out of the bunker, to see nature, the cities… I wanted to go on a trip and meet people.”

“I could’ve gone with you,” Dean says quietly, but Cas shakes his head.

“No,” he disagrees quietly. “You were one of the reasons I wanted to leave in the first place.”

That hurts. Dean can feel how his insides literally get cold at the words. He almost chokes on the next intake of breath.

“Don’t take it the wrong way. You didn’t chase me away. I was reluctant to leave you, because I knew I’d miss you. But I had to leave, to figure out on my own how to proceed. What am I, without you?” A heavy sigh again. “Do you remember when we talked about human emotions earlier?”

Dean’s having a hard time thinking about their earlier conversation because he’s really hurt by Cas’ words. “Uh… you said you had forgotten how strong they are?”

“Yes. As an angel, emotions aren’t that strong, really. They are limited in their variety and in their strength. So, as an angel, I knew that you were the most important thing to me. I had to protect you, had to make sure you were safe and sound, healthy… Sometimes I kind of missed you… Sometimes I didn’t know what I felt, exactly, but… Well…We both know I’d do anything for you.”

Now Dean wishes he could see Cas’ face. Is he smiling? Or does he hate the fact that Dean is his weak point?

“For me, that whole thing between us just was the way it was. Not labelled. Nothing to worry about… When I became human for the first time, everything was very confusing. All those possible emotions inside me were overwhelming and it was difficult to analyze them and to put them in order. I learned what it truly meant to miss someone. I learned how betrayal felt. And powerlessness. Despair. But I also started to get a sense of longing, love even… Joy. To feel joy was…incredible. But I wasn’t human for long and I just forgot about how it felt. But I remembered that I experienced odd reactions when I thought of you, or when I was with you. I had an idea about what was going on, and when I left you, I thought maybe I could come to terms with how I felt about you. Maybe staying away from you would show me that there weren’t any…feelings. Just the sense of family.”

Fuck. _Fuck_. Did Cas try to forget about him?!

“After a few weeks I met an angel… It was very unfortunate, really. I got myself into trouble, because I wanted to help, but you know how it turns out most of the time… We had a terrible fight and after that, I was weakened to an almost human level.”

And Cas didn’t call Dean to ask for help, or for shelter. Dean stares at the back of Cas’ head in horror. What the fuck!?

“Someone found me and took care of me. He was a doctor from a nearby hospital who offered me private help because I insisted that I didn’t want to go to a hospital. His name was Matt.”

In an instant, Dean knows. Cas’ tone of voice says everything. There’s affection, but also regret. Disappointment. Strong emotions that make clear they were in a relationship, or something. Maybe they fucked.

“He, uh… He got me back on my feet. He was very nice and supportive and he didn’t push me for details. He was just a guy and I… I liked him. He reminded me of you.”

Dean’s eyes widen at that revelation.

“And I started to miss you. A lot. And Matt, he… He was there, you know? Looking a bit like you, with that sandy-blonde hair, those lips… He mostly acted tough, but he had a soft core. At least, that’s what I thought.”

Dean swallows. He feels dizzy because of all this information. And there are so many emotions swirling in his gut that he thinks he’s going to explode.

“I stayed at his apartment when I was recovering, and I felt so much, Dean… I missed you so much and I knew that it was so very different from what I felt for anyone else. Matt thought I was a bit rattled from the fight and he tried to help me figure out my emotions… He didn’t get suspicious, luckily. And… I don’t know how it happened, but I felt good when I was with him and then, one night…” Cas sighs. “We had sex. After that, I didn’t leave his apartment for days. I stayed and I made dinner, or breakfast…and we had sex again. There was this sweet routine, but… Something was missing. It took me a long time to understand that it was the fact that he wasn’t you.”

Dean scrubs a hand over his face, trying to tamp down the ugly, hot feeling twisting in his gut. It’s too much. Cas is telling him that he feels…what? Love? Yeah, sure, that’s why he was fooling around with a fucking stranger, _again_. Like he did with April.

“When my grace started to come back, the emotions weren’t dulled, at first. So when Matt suddenly threw me out, I was hurt and devastated. I didn’t understand what happened. I’m not sure I understand, even now… Suddenly, he was distant and cold, and I was alone again. With my emotions still being so strong, I felt…uh…” Cas clears his throat. “I was totally confused. I didn’t know what to do and how to get myself straight. I was back on the street for several days, and that’s when I arrived here.”

A small smile spreads on Cas’ face. “Lori spotted me sitting at the corner of a supermarket and she took me in. At the time, I didn’t understand why. It was several days later before she admitted she could see I was something special. Not human. After a few days, my emotions were limited again and...I didn’t like it. I spoke about it to Lori a lot… . That way, I could analyze my feelings in order to make the next decision. I wanted to see what it was that I felt for you. I needed to experience it for a longer time. I thought a lot about you…and everything that I experienced, I shared with Lori.” Cas lowers his head, dragging a hand over his face. “She said that I had fallen in love.”

Dean’s heart skips a beat. Oh.

There’s a sensation that washes over him which feels hot and cold at the same time.

Cas. In Love. With Dean. _Dean_.

Cas has known that for months and he didn’t say a word. If Dean had never suggested a meeting, would he even know by now? Would Cas have told him at all?

“Cas… You think you’re uh… _In love_? With _me_?”

“Yes,” Cas says quietly, without missing a beat. He sounds like he truly knows now what that means.

“You didn’t tell me… You’ve had plenty of time…”

“I know, but… My grace was still available. I thought about putting it back, once I knew what I felt. That it was an even deeper connection than I could have imagined as an angel. And I knew that I wouldn’t feel like I was in love when I went back to being an angel. So I decided to…become human. Acknowledge my feelings for you. But humans, Dean… They are fragile. Not just physically. The more I thought about telling you, the more I got scared.”

_Oh_.

“I wondered if you liked me the same way, and I started to doubt it. You often emphasized that I was a brother to you. Because of my memories, I convinced myself that you didn’t feel the same way about me.”

Yes, Dean acted casually all the time. He never gave a hint about his stronger feelings for Cas, and he’s starting to see that as a mistake.

“I don’t like the sinking feeling of insecurity. Like a pebble in my shoe, it wore on me every single day,” Castiel admits. “And I never solved another problem: what am I worth without my powers? It’s always the same question. Right now, Dean, I can’t do anything useful. It takes days, even weeks, to recover from injuries or sickness. I’m not strong enough to fight humans, or angels, or something else. I try to remind myself that you’ve always been human, and you nevertheless achieved a lot of things. So, I guess that’s what I’m trying to do, too.”

Cas sighs.

“When you texted me, I was still struggling with myself, obsessed with the question of whether I should tell you or not that I’m not an angel anymore. I didn’t hesitate to invite you here, in the end, because I am now able to understand you better. I wanted you to see me because I knew that it was something that could help you. It would make you feel better, and, well, since I missed you terribly, it would be good for me, too. I caused you pain with the distance, and I knew that it had to end. It wasn’t okay to keep pushing you away.”

Dean inhales slowly, trying to process what Cas has just said. “I’m not sure I understand everything you just told me, but…” He drags a hand over his face, staring at Cas’ back. “Are you still afraid? About what I think or what I feel?”

“No…”

“And do you still…feel that way about me…?”

“Yes,” Cas whispers, and that’s when Dean scoots closer to Cas on his knees, carefully wrapping his arms around the other man’s shoulders.

“I, uh… I feel that way about you, too…”

Cas breathes out shakily, before he raises a hand to cover Dean’s on his chest.

“Cas, when we decided to retire, I imagined a life in the bunker—just the three of us. Living together, you know. I thought that finally, we could stay together, no cases interrupting us, no ‘the world is ending crap’. I pictured you, Cas, being with us. But then you said you needed to leave, and that disappointed me a lot.”

“If I had known that you were still affected by Michael, I wouldn’t have gone,” Cas whispers. “I really thought you were okay, and that I could go to figure out what to do next.”

Dean sighs and puts his forehead onto Cas’ shoulder. “I think we should’ve talked more back then, but, well… We suck at it.”

Cas huffs a laugh, but doesn’t comment.

“What are we going to do about it? About, uh, us?” Dean asks quietly, lifting his head and hooking his chin over Cas’ shoulder.

Cas’ breath actually _catches_ in his throat while he fights to come up with an answer. “I…ah, we don’t have to… we don’t have to do anything about it. If you don’t want to…”

“No pressure, then?”

“Yes… No pressure. If that’s what you want.”

Dean considers that for a moment, pressing his cheek gently against Cas’ and enjoying the scrape of their stubble. This close, he can smell Cas’ distinct scent. “And what do _you_ want? What do you think? Just…so that I know…”

Cas hums thoughtfully. “I think I would like you to stay for a little longer, if you want to. And then we just play it by ear. Spending time together might help, right?” He sighs and squeezes Dean’s hand, still on his chest. “I’ve spent so much time apart from you already. And it didn’t make me feel better.”

“I wanna stay,” Dean says and smiles against Cas’ cheek. “I’d really like to spend more time with you. I wouldn’t leave you anyway, as long as you are injured. But even after that… I can stay. Sam should be fine on his own for a while longer.” He thinks about Valerie. Sam probably won’t need his big brother anymore, anyway…

Before his thoughts can drift away, there’s suddenly a warm hand at the back of his neck, gently caressing the short hair, causing goosebumps to spread down to his arms and chest.

“Thank you, Dean.”

Dean just smiles and hugs Cas a little tighter, then he lets go. “Let’s lie down and try to get some sleep.” When Cas settles beside him, Dean hesitates. “Maybe it’s not a good idea to be too close to you. I’ll probably hurt you again.”

“No,” Cas mutters and takes Dean’s arm, pulling him down. “I don’t sleep much, anyway; it won’t bother me. Hopefully, the weed has calmed you down a bit, too. Let’s just try it… I want you right here…”

And Dean finds that this is what he wants, too: sharing a bed with Cas.

“Okay.”

Once again, he’s the big spoon, pressing himself against Cas’ back and winding an arm around his waist. It’s warm, it’s nice, it’s intimate.

It’s everything Dean has ever wanted.

***.*.***

There’s an annoying, subliminal sound that wakes Dean up. It’s repeating, and it’s coming from the floor.

Since Cas is still soundly asleep in his arms, Dean tries to disentangle himself very carefully. When he finally gets up, he realizes that his phone is constantly vibrating—someone’s calling him.

Quickly, he fishes his phone out of his jeans and leaves the room before he picks up. It’s Jack.

“Hey, kid.”

“Hello, Dean.” Jack sounds chipper, his voice familiar even over the phone. _Even though they haven’t talked to each other lately._ “I got your message. I’m sorry that I didn’t notice it right away. Is everything okay?”

“Uh…” It takes Dean several seconds to answer. His first instinct is to let Jack know that Cas is hurt, because he just wants him to be okay again. But on the other hand, Cas has decided he doesn’t want help, and since he’s not in the middle of dying, it’s better to keep the promise Dean made. He exhales slowly and nods. “Yeah, everything’s okay. Just, uh, checking in.”

“Oh, okay. Because you said I should hurry up and call you immediately, I thought something had come up.”

“Ah, no, no. It’s nothing. It’s just that I, uhm…I’m at Cas’ place and I thought we could have a little chat over the phone, because we miss you. But uh…he’s asleep, so maybe we should talk another time.” He’s fucking rambling.

“So everything’s fine, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t need any help?”

“No, no. Everything’s cool. What have you been up to these days?” He changes the topic almost desperately, before Jack can get suspicious.

“Oh, the usual. I was with Bobby for a few weeks, but he wants a break, so I’m on my own for a bit. “

“You’re hunting alone?” Dean feels an unpleasant twitch.

“Yes. But I’ll meet Mary the day after tomorrow. She needs help. Nothing too serious, no need to worry.”

Dean sighs. “You know, it’s hard to settle down if half of my family hasn’t retired from hunting yet.”

Jack is quiet for a moment. “Dean… Somebody has to do it. And why not me? I’m half-angel, so it’s okay. I really want to do it.”

“You’re on a case now?”

“No. I’m researching, but nothing has come up, so I’m just waiting for Mary.”

“Huh.”

“But I think I’m getting bored.”

“Oh, that’s uh… I’m sorry.”

“Where did you say Castiel lives?”

“Avon, Colorado,” Dean answers without thinking about it.

“Colorado is nice. I like it there.”

“Uh-huh… Well, we can talk later, when it’s not night. You know…it’s night in Colorado right now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”

“Say hi to Mom when you see her.”

“Sure.”

And then, the line goes dead without Jack even saying goodbye. Rude.

“Kid doesn’t have manners,” Dean murmurs and shakes his head, putting his phone on the coffeetable in the living room. It’s time to look after Cas.

But before he can open the door, he can feel the air tense. It’s a weirdly familiar feeling, even if he hasn’t experienced it in years. Then he hears the tale-telling _whup-whuff _of wings, at which he spins around. He really wishes he could grab his gun right now, but he can’t even remember where he’d put it.

His heart skips a beat.

“Jack?” He stares at the kid that just appeared in the hall. “What… What the hell?”

“I assume that you’re going back to sleep?”

What?

“Yes, but…”

“Can I watch TV until you and Castiel wake up?”

“Uuuuh…” Dean tries to wrap his head around what’s happening right now, but it’s just not possible. It’s late, and he just wants to get back to Cas and his warm, solid body. “Yeah, go ahead. Knock yourself out, kid.”

Jack beams at him in that adorable way, warming Dean’s chest, then the kid turns around and enters the living room.

“Oookay,” Dean shakes his head, opens the door and closes it firmly behind him again. He doesn’t need Jack to see them together in bed. It would be a bit weird. Dean’s not ready for that yet. He doesn’t want anyone to see, because he doesn’t want to explain what the hell happened. For now, he just wants to enjoy what he has with Cas.

So Dean slides under the covers, checks on Cas’ breathing, which is still even, so he’s apparently not having nightmares yet, then he gently presses himself against him.

He nuzzles into Cas’ neck, inhaling the clean scent of his hair that softly tingles his nose. Dean smiles and shuts his eyes. Fuck, does this feel good.

***.*.***

“Dean?”

Dean grumbles and tries to nuzzle even further into the solid warmth in front of him.

“Dean, wake up. It’s Sam.”

Huh?

An undignified grunt escapes Dean’s lip when he tries to disentangle himself from Cas. He blinks his eyes open.

Jack is standing in the room, right next to him, and he’s holding Dean’s phone. “Sam is calling. He also texted you. I happened to see it because your phone was on the table…”

Dean just grabs the phone out of Jack’s hand and gets up. “Sammy?” He guides Jack out of the room, briefly wondering whether Jack saw that Cas was with him. But well, fuck, he sure as shit saw that.

“Hey, Dean. Nice of you to finally react. I could be dead by now.” Sam sounds fucking pissed.

“Uh, what? Are you okay? What happened?”

Sam sighs and takes a few seconds before he answers. “I’m okay, Dean. I’m sorry, I’m having a tough time, and I was worried about you, and about Cas…”

Dean furrows his eyebrows. He’s standing in the living room, now, and Jack is next to him, staring at him curiously.

“What’s wrong? Should I come back to Kansas?”

“No, no, there’s no need for that,” Sam replies hastily. “I just wondered if I could come visit you? I’d like to see Cas again, too, you know…”

Now Dean’s getting really worried, because Sam is acting weird. “Sam, come on. What’s going on?”

“Dean, I’m fine… Mostly. I just want to come by, okay?”

Dean sighs. “Are you going to tell me what happened, then?”

“Yes,” Sam answers rather hesitantly. “I guess I owe you that. I mean… I’m sorry I’m asking, since I know how important it is for you to be with Cas and to talk to him privately, but…”

Dean feels himself blush. “Nah, it’s okay. I have to ask Cas first, though, then I’ll text you, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks…” Sam sounds tired.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Dean asks finally, just to make sure Sam will be okay.

“No, just ask Cas if I can visit you two.”

“Sure. Bye.”

Dean hangs up and looks at Jack, who returns his gaze curiously.

“Sam is acting weird.”

“That’s what I thought,” Dean mumbles while he taps his phone absentmindedly against his chin.

“Jack? What are you doing here?”

Dean jumps about a foot in the air when he suddenly hears Cas’ gravelly voice behind him. Cas doesn’t sound amused, but Jack doesn’t seem to notice. The kid grins happily at Cas as he steps around Dean.

“Castiel! It’s good to see you.” Jack pulls Cas into a quick, but tight, hug, making him wince. “Oh. You’re hurt.”

“Ah, no, I’m… Jack, no!”

But it’s too late. There’s already a familiar glow in Jack’s eyes, his hand gently lingering on Cas’ bad shoulder and Dean knows the kid is healing Cas without even asking. He doesn’t know what to think of it. He’s relieved that Cas is going to be okay now, but maybe he’ll be pissed, because he actually didn’t want to be healed.

Jack looks at Cas, obviously puzzled. “Did I do something wrong?”

Dean sees that Cas’ jaw clenches for a brief moment, then he shakes his head. “No, no. Thank you.”

And that’s when Dean notices something he doesn’t understand. Just with a touch, Jack noticed that Cas has been injured—he surely must have noticed that Cas is human now, right? But it seems like he doesn’t care. Why does Jack not care about Castiel being human?!

“Uh, Cas…” Dean points at Jack between them. “Is your, uhm, new condition not a secret?”

The look Cas gives him then is enough of an answer. It’s pure guilt and Dean sighs.

“Who else knows?” he asks gruffly. It’s hard not to get angry, or rather disappointed, but he tries his best to hide his emotions.

“Jack is the only one I have told about my decision,” Cas answers quietly. “I needed someone to talk to. An angel, or someone with grace. Since I’m not exactly friends with angels, there was only Jack that I could contact.” The way that Cas looks at Dean is pleading. _Please don’t be mad. Please understand. There was no other way. I couldn’t tell you at that time. I couldn’t talk to you._

And Dean tries to understand. He tries to accept that Cas didn’t contact him, instead. It’s not that Cas doesn’t trust him, it’s because Dean was the main reason for Cas choosing to become human. If Cas had talked to Dean about it beforehand, then the conversation would have revealed too much, too soon. Things that Cas wasn’t ready yet to tell Dean.

Dean drags a hand over his face and nods, noticing the confused look on Jack’s face. He doesn’t understand the weird tension in the room.

“Okay,” Dean mumbles. “Uh, Cas… Sam is asking if he can come visit us here.” Cas’ eyes widen in surprise. “I think something’s up, but he won’t tell me. He said he’s going to talk about it here, maybe...”

Now, Cas looks concerned. “I hope he’s alright.” He sighs quietly. “Now that you know everything, Dean, there’s no need to keep any of you away. Sam’s welcome here.”

Dean nods with a small smile on his lips. “Thanks. I’ll text him later, and for now… I’ll go take a shower… And you two…reconnect, or whatever.”

Jack beams at that and turns to face Cas fully. “So much has happened, Castiel! It’s only been three months since we last saw each other, but there are lots of things I need to tell you!”

Three months, huh. Even Jack hasn’t seen Cas for some time. Castiel really did shut out all the people he knew.

Shaking his head, Dean makes a beeline for the bedroom to grab clean clothes, before he goes to the bathroom.

Standing under the warm spray of the shower, his thoughts start to circle around Sam. He’s worried about him, and the more he thinks about the short conversation they just had, the more he’s convinced that some big crap is about to happen. When Sam gets to the cabin, he’ll admit that he heard something and they’re gonna have to go back to hunting. Just this one time. But of course, they’ll get dragged back into that life, because it doesn’t let go of you that easily.

His heart clenches and Dean notices that he’s spiraling down a dark path. Again.

He takes a deep breath and grabs the shampoo, trying to think of other things.

Cas. Yes. He should think about Cas.

But he can’t help thinking about the bad things. Dean finally thought he’d have some one-on-one time with Cas, now that there’s this fragile thing between them. He really wanted to take care of that. Get closer to Castiel, strengthen their, uh, bond… Convince Cas to come back to Kansas with him. But there’s not much time left to talk about that, it seems. With Sam arriving soon… Ugh.

When Dean steps out of the shower, he quickly dries himself off with a towel, then stares at his phone on the sink. For a brief moment, he thinks about texting Sam later, maybe tomorrow… But that’d be a dick move. He can’t do that to Sam. As his big brother, he has to take care of Sam, doing everything he can to keep him happy, to support him. And Sam wouldn’t have asked to come to interrupt Dean and Cas on their alone-time if it wasn’t important.

Therefore, Dean sends a short message to Sam, to which his brother answers immediately with a thanks and lots of exclamation marks, then he adds that he’ll arrive tomorrow afternoon.

Dean sighs at that, staring at the message with an oddly sad feeling. He doesn’t really want to have Sam visit yet. It’ll be cool, the three of them being reunited after eight months, but why _now_? It’s too early for that. He and Cas haven’t worked out yet what they’re going to do about their relationship or whatever that thing between them is.

Dean runs a hand over his face, before he quickly dresses and heads out to the kitchen. It’s quiet in the cabin, which worries him immediately, but when he enters the kitchen, he can see Cas and Jack standing in the backyard.

He can’t resist the urge to step closer to the window next to the backdoor to watch them.

Cas looks pretty proud and Jack is smiling as he takes a closer look at the garden. It’s adorable, really. And watching this scene makes him think of them as a family. Maybe they could be happy. All of them, living together in the same town, nobody hunting anymore…

They’d still have to convince Mary and Bobby, though. And Jack? The kid seems to think that hunting is his only purpose, which isn’t true. Sure, he has some exquisite powers, but why does he have to use them fighting and smiting and what not? Jack could easily do a lot of good work just by healing people. Maybe that’d be even better, more helpful, because there are enough hunters in the world. But people that can actually heal? Angels that heal? Not many.

Cas lifts his head and looks at the cabin, noticing Dean. A warm smile tugs at his lips and Dean is forcefully reminded of Cas’ beauty. It’s in his dark, unruly hair, his big blue eyes, and in the corners of his eyes that crinkle when he smiles. The fact that Cas is just wearing his black sweatpants that are a little too big for him and a black v-neck t-shirt underlines the simplicity of his beauty. It’s natural. Cas can wear just about anything, he always looks great.

Dean sighs. It’s a bit weird to finally let himself have these thoughts. Before, he always tried to push them aside because he knew that he couldn’t do anything about them. About Cas. It would have distracted him too much, putting all of them in danger. But now he knows that Cas thought the same way for years and they can finally give in to their feelings, right? They already did… And it felt good.


	11. Chapter 11

When Cas and Jack come back to the kitchen from their little garden trip, the three of them eat pancakes with bacon and lots of maple syrup. While Dean and Cas enjoy their hot coffee to wake up properly, Jack prefers a glass of orange juice, which “reminds me of warm summer days.” That’s a bit odd, since it’s technically still summer, but Jack just shrugs when Dean calls him out on it and happily sips the juice.

The rest of the day is spent talking about Jack’s and Bobby’s joint hunts, about Mary, and Sam and Valerie, and then they move to the couch and start watching Netflix. Despite Dean’s complaints, they switch between the romantic comedies and chick flicks that Jack suggests and documentaries about a phallological museum in Iceland. When a documentary about the history of certain dog and cat breeds starts, Dean squirms slightly on the couch because he still doesn’t know how Cas is feeling about his dead cat. Sure, it’s still a sore spot, but will Cas get over it? They didn’t talk about it and that’s not necessarily a good sign.

When Jack decides it’s a good idea to switch to Youtube videos of some guy named Dr. Mike, Cas announces he’s going to grab them some snacks and something to drink. Dean takes the opportunity to follow Cas, even though he’d like to watch the Youtube video, because “Dr. Mike” looks gorgeous and also seems to be an actual doctor, which is all kinds of hot. But Cas is more important, so Dean goes after his friend—or are they something else now? He doesn’t even know. They need more time to find out.

“Cas?” He steps next to him at the counter, leaning against it with his hip and watching Cas preparing something to drink. “Is everything okay? I mean…” Dean clears his throat. “It might sound dumb, but I’m worried about you because of the cat, ya know? So much happened since then but we never talked about it…”

Cas stops mid-pour and braces himself on the counter, eyes cast down, hesitating.

“I truly don’t know, Dean… I don’t know how to deal with it.” He glances quickly up at Dean, then stares back at the counter, his knuckles getting white with how tight he grips it. “I’ve seen a lot during my existence, and there were so many losses, but I rarely experienced them while being human. I think it’s still hard on me. Maybe I’d feel better if I knew that whatever killed the cat is dead now, too, but I‘m not sure.”

There’s a pang of guilt in Dean’s chest. “I’m so sorry, Cas. I tried to track down the creature, but I had no luck… I let you down, and I’m sorry about it.”

When Cas looks up at him again, his eyebrows are furrowed. “You let me down,” he agrees as he fully turns to face Dean. Dean swallows and nods, feeling his insides get cold as Cas continues. “But the reason for that is not that you didn’t find what caused the cat’s death. It’s the fact that you left the house because you wanted to find it. You were hunting, Dean, and I’ve already told you that it’s… It’s not okay. Something could have happened to you out there. You left me alone here, dealing with emotions that are confusing. I needed you, Dean. Right here, by my side, but you weren’t there.”

Dean lowers his head and runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know what to do, either, Cas. You wouldn’t let me take care of you…”

Cas sighs and wraps his arms around Dean’s waist, pressing his face into Dean’s shoulder. It immediately warms his heart. “I’m sorry about that. I was out of it and it must have been difficult for you to deal with me. I don’t want to blame you, Dean. I apologize for bringing it up. It’s just that I don’t know how to deal with it. I’m miserable about the cat…” He shrugs and Dean finally raises his hands and places them on Cas’ back, gently pressing the warm body closer to his own. He’s glad that Cas isn’t actually mad at him.

“Look, it’ll take time. But it’s gonna be a bit easier with each day. I’ll talk to a hunter so that this thing will get taken down,” he says as he gently rocks them both, not even noticing the motion. “And maybe, when you’re up for it…you can get your own cat. You can pick it out, you can choose its name, you can take care of it, doing everything that needs to be done. And it’ll be there for you every day…”

Cas hums and squeezes Dean, before he lets go of him and takes a step back. “I’ll think about that. Thank you, Dean,” he says with a small smile before he turns to the drinks. “Can you bring that into the living room, please?”

Dean nods his agreement and rubs Cas’ back for a second, then grabs the drinks and heads back to the living room where Jack is laughing about a weird dancing video.

***.*.***

It’s late evening when Jack decides to leave, declining Castiel’s offer to stay the night. Dean hates to admit it, but he’s actually relieved about that because he likes his one-on-one time with Cas—and by tomorrow afternoon, it’ll be ending. Dean will probably head back with Sam, because his brother would ask too many questions if Dean decided to stay...

He bites his lower lip. Fuck. He doesn’t want to leave Cas yet, but also doesn’t want to talk to Sam about Cas and their friendship-relationship-thing. It would be best if Castiel decided to come back with them. Dean doubts that Cas will just do that, though. The other man won’t abandon his cabin that easily.

Since all of this is a mess, Dean stops thinking about it. He focuses on enjoying the time he has left with Cas.

After Jack has disappeared to wherever he’s supposed to meet Mary, Cas shares his vape pen with Dean. They relax for a while on the porch in front of the house, trading lazy smiles and soft glances. It’s nice, really, and Dean’s mood lightens up a bit.

When he feels his head becoming a bit dizzy, he decides to stop smoking and do something useful. He retreats to the kitchen to wash the dishes, while Castiel putters around in the cabin, clearing up the living room after their little get-together with Jack. Although his visit was completely unexpected, it was nice having him here.

Dean misses having Jack around. He’s like another younger brother he didn’t know he wanted. Sure, they had a rough start, and Dean was tough on the kid, at first, because he was totally absorbed in his grief, but ultimately, Jack was the one that had awakened Cas in the Empty, giving him the chance to come back to his family. Jack’s a good boy. A good man. He tries his best, and sometimes he makes mistakes, just like the rest of them. But his heart is in the right place.

Sometimes Jack reminds him of Castiel—the Castiel from six or so years ago. The naïve one, strong, determined, but oh-so-lost when it came to interaction with humans. In hindsight, it’d been adorable, really. And so is Jack, but Dean can tell that the young man is already adjusting more and more to the human world. And that’s okay.

When his train of thought stops, Dean notices that it’s gotten pretty quiet in the cabin. He puts the last plate aside, intending to dry it later, when he hears soft steps coming closer.

Two seconds later, strong arms wrap around Dean’s waist, and a warm, solid chest presses against Dean’s back. He can’t help himself, the touches and then the scent of Cas is enough to make his heart flutter in his chest, its rate picking up. It’s unexpected to have Cas be so close and show such affection, but it’s definitely nice. He involuntarily shudders as he feels Cas’ warm breath ghosting over his neck.

“Are you done?”

“Ah, yeah, I think so...” Dean mumbles, fighting against a full-body shiver as Cas kisses his neck softly, but he can’t withhold a gasp when Castiel nudges Dean’s ass with his hips, revealing that he’s half-hard.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean wheezes, eyes going wide with surprise, but there’s also arousal immediately coursing through his system.

“Take me to bed, Dean,” he hears Castiel rumble into his ear, making Dean’s legs weak as his low voice sends a spark right down to Dean’s groin, making his own dick perk up.

“You’re pretty forward, huh?” His voice doesn’t sound as steady as he’d like, because Dean’s out of his depth here. His experience with guys is limited, at best, and Cas had probably more action with that Matt guy than Dean’s had in his entire life with men.

“Are you going shy on me, Dean?” Cas mutters, rocking his hips slightly against Dean. His mouth goes very dry as he feels the hard line of Cas’ cock pushing between his ass cheeks.

He slowly turns in Cas’ arms, facing him. Those beautiful big eyes are dark now with pure want, and fuck if Cas isn’t sexy as hell right now.

Actually, Dean intended to say something smart or flirty, but it seems like his brain hasn’t gotten enough oxygen to be able to form thoughts or words. So instead, Dean crushes their mouths together, sliding his hands down Cas’ waist.

Cas sighs happily, hands fisting the back of Dean’s shirt as he pushes his tongue into Dean’s mouth. But far too soon, Cas pulls back a bit, gently biting Dean’s lip.

“I must admit that I’m very happy right now that Jack healed me,” he says, staring into Dean’s eyes with such intensity that Dean’s legs go weak again. “Since the very day that you arrived here, I’ve wanted to rip off your clothes and see you naked under my hands... It’s driving me insane.” Cas’ voice is a growl now, making Dean shudder in the most delicious way. Arousal is pooling deep in his belly and he suddenly thinks that there’s nothing better in the world than to be naked under Cas.

“Then take ‘em off, c’mon…” he urges Cas and bites his bottom lip when he sees the other man’s eyes glaze over with lust. It’s new to see Cas like this, but it’s also _freakin’ hot_.

A second later, Castiel’s hands tug on the hem of Dean’s olive-colored Henley and Dean lifts his arms so they can get it off quickly.

As Cas’ eyes rake over his body, Dean reaches out in order to get rid of Cas’ black shirt, as well, but his hands settle on the ex-angel’s hip, instead. Dean hesitates while he studies Cas’ throat and the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Then he stares at Cas’ broad chest, wondering what all the tanned skin and well-defined muscles will do to him. Now that Castiel is healed, it all feels a bit different. He’s okay, and they want to climb each other like frikkin’ trees—and Cas isn’t shy about any of that.

But Dean is, kind of. Because, well, it’s Cas, of all people, and… He’s a guy, and there’s not a lot of experience that Dean can use in that area. Maybe enthusiasm can make up for it, though.

It’s Castiel’s hands on Dean’s chest that pull him out of his reverie. Soft fingers are rubbing over his left nipple and Dean sighs. Yeah, that’s nice.

Cas smirks and leans in, replacing his fingers with his mouth, and, _oh fuck_. Cas’ tongue licking and teasing his nipple is _awesome_.

Dean sucks in a deep breath, his grip on Cas’ hips tightening, thumbs rubbing circles onto the jut of them.

“You feel so good,” Dean murmurs without thinking about it, feeling a blush creeping up into his face.

Castiel hums, leaving kisses on his skin as his mouth wanders over his pecs, his throat and up to his jaw which makes Dean’s body tremble slightly. _Fuck, he wants Cas._

Finally, his mouth finds Dean’s as his hands frame Dean’s face, then Cas is kissing him slow and deep, taking Dean’s breath away.

“I love your mouth,” Castiel whispers against his lips, grinding his hips against Dean’s. And he can’t help himself. The hard line of Cas’ cock against his own sends a hot spark down his spine, making him bold.

“Well, then, let’s find out how good I can make you feel with my mouth…”

Castiel’s pupils dilate and he takes a step back, taking Dean’s hand.

Dean grins when Cas pulls him into the bedroom without any words, not bothering with closing the door.

Cas hastily climbs onto the bed, scooting back into the center of it and Dean follows immediately. The arousal that’s pooling in his belly takes over, he doesn’t even have to force himself to stop thinking and start taking action.

In under ten seconds, he gets Cas out of his pants and underwear while Cas helps and takes off his black t-shirt.

And, whoa—Dean needs a minute to take in what’s laid out in front of him. He stares at golden skin, perky nipples, a soft, enticing stomach and thick thighs. Dean slides a hand up to explore the crease between thigh and hip, the sharp jut of bone, while he looks at Cas’ hard dick that lies heavily against his belly.

Dean stares and Cas softly says his name, running a hand through Dean’s hair.

“You’re gorgeous,” Dean whispers as his hand slides to Cas’ dick, which gives an interested twitch at the touch. Cas whimpers and stares at Dean’s hand which makes him smile.

“It’s been a minute since I did this last, okay? So bear with me.”

Cas’ eyes grow soft. “Dean, you don’t have to do this…”

“I really, really want to,” Dean reassures him as he lowers his head, briefly looking at the thick cock in his hand, before he stares right back into Cas’ eyes, which grow heated in the very moment that Dean’s lips connect with his dick.

He kisses a trail from base to tip, lapping up the pre-come that’s gathered there. Cas is already making needy little sounds in the back of his throat, his legs trembling with the effort of holding back instead of thrusting into Dean’s mouth. And for that, Dean’s thankful, really, because he can’t even remember the last time he had a dick in his mouth.

Slowly, he swallows Cas down, pressing his tongue against the underside of Cas’ cock. He notices Cas throwing his head back, and Dean would smirk if there wasn’t a thick cock stuffed in his mouth. Gently, he suckles at the tip while he tries to remember how to give a good blow job, but according to Castiel’s reactions, Dean’s already doing well.

Cas buries his hands in Dean’s hair, though he’s neither tugging nor guiding, and he’s moaning without holding back. The sound makes Dean even harder in his pants, which are growing very uncomfortable now.

He pulls off of Cas with a wet pop, his fingers already busy with opening his own fly and zipper. When he catches Cas’ eyes, he sits up and reaches for Dean’s pants.

“Let me,” he murmurs, shoving Dean’s pants down along with his underwear, but both catch at his knees. Quickly, Dean stands up and steps out of the clothes before he joins Cas on the bed again.

Castiel pulls him flush against his body, hands sliding down Dean’s lower back and finally settling on his ass, squeezing the round globes.

Dean moans into their kiss, hips grinding down. Cas is rock hard and still slightly wet from Dean’s mouth and that’s when Dean remembers he didn’t finish the job. He nips at Cas’ bottom lip and stares into his hooded eyes.

“Let me suck you off, Cas.”

The beautiful, stormy eyes widen, and then Castiel nods vigorously. Dean smiles as his fingers gently stroke Cas’ cheeks. He indulges in another deep kiss, enjoying Castiel’s clever tongue against his own, before he slides off the bed and kneels on the floor. He grabs Cas’ hips and pulls him forward until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread, feet flat on the floor, his thighs bracketing Dean.

Dean’s mouth waters when the glistening tip of Cas’ dick bumps against his lips, smearing a bit of pre-come across them. Fuck, he’s got it bad. But he doesn’t care. He’s okay with wanting this, all of it. Cas, his body, his dick—whatever he’s willing to give, Dean will take it.

His lips stretch around Cas’ length as he takes him back into his mouth. The groan that Cas lets out echoes in Dean’s chest, sending a spark through his body.

Although Dean wants to fully concentrate on making Cas feel good and making him come, he can’t hold back from flicking his eyes up to gauge his reactions.

Cas is leaning back on his hands, head thrown back in pleasure, panting heavily. He’s beautiful. And fucking hot. He starts to thrust shallowly into Dean’s mouth, obviously trying to hold back as to not hurt Dean.

Eager as he is, Dean tries to take as much of Cas into his mouth as he can, and he works his hand over the part that doesn’t fit into his mouth. It’s not easy to keep from choking, but Dean gives his best and he’s succeeding pretty well, actually, if Cas’ sounds and writhing are anything to go by.

Getting more confident, he bobs his head up and down, slowly at first, but speeding up with every other second. Slurping sounds fill the air as Dean sucks him down again and again until Cas man is a moaning mess. Dean’s own erection is aching by now, but he closes his eyes to be able to fully concentrate on Cas.

Suddenly, there’s a hand in his hair, tugging at the strands, and fuck, Dean likes that. His moan makes Cas moan, too, and then there’s a second hand in Dean’s hair as Cas begins to babble.

“Dean, you feel so good, you’re perfect…” He moans again, his fingers tightening in Dean’s hair as his hips start to thrust more eagerly into Dean’s mouth.

And Dean lets him do it. He relaxes his throat and allows Cas to simply use him as he pleases, and he must admit, he’s a bit proud of his skills, even though he knows he’s far from perfect.

“Oh, Dean… I’m close, don’t stop, don’t stop…” Cas’ voice is rough and deep and it’s a fucking miracle that Dean’s not coming right there and then. His fingers dig into Cas’ trembling thighs as he takes Cas as deep as he can, swallowing around him.

There’s a broken moan from Cas, and Dean doubles his efforts, ignoring the saliva that’s streaming down the corner of his mouth. When he swallows around Cas again, the other man hisses, his body tensing.

“Ah! Dean, I’m…!”

And that’s it, Cas comes down Dean’s throat with a moan that’s dirty as fuck. Dean tries to take it all, but he doesn’t know if he succeeds because he’s all wet already from his own saliva.

Cas’ grip in his hair loosens as Dean gently suckles at the tip before pulling off.

He sits back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. No, there’s no come, just spit. He grins up at Cas, who returns his look with soft eyes and a content smile on his lips.

“You’re amazing, Dean.” Cas’ hands cup his face and he slowly pulls him up to get a kiss. A tongue runs across Dean’s lips, so he opens them for Cas, tasting himself.

“Cas…?”

The former angel opens his eyes, his lips still ghosting over Dean’s mouth.

“Hmm?”

“Could you help me out here?” His neglected erection really needs attention now, and Cas grins knowingly.

“Of course,” he mumbles. “You did such a good job, now let me take care of you.”

Dean’s mouth goes dry, because Cas’ deep voice is fucking hot, and even though it still surprises him that Castiel is completely at ease with this situation, he really enjoys it.

Cas grips the back of his thighs and gently nudges him towards the edge of the bed where he’s still sitting. “Come here.”

Dean kneels onto the bed, straddling Cas’s hips as he throws his arms around Cas’ neck. He stares into his baby blue eyes and runs his hands through Cas’ messy, soft hair, enjoying the warm body against his own as he presses himself closer.

“Fuck, Cas…” Slowly, he slides his hands down Cas’ chest and his sides. “I love touching you. You feel so good,” he admits quietly, voice full of emotion. For a brief moment, he thinks about the past—how did he manage to keep his hands off of Cas all that time? It seems impossible to him, now that they are sharing such an intimate moment.

When Cas hums, Dean looks back into his eyes.

“Dean…” His voice is a rumble, caressing not only Dean’s ears, but his very soul.

One hand strokes Dean’s thigh, the other grips his cock confidently. With a whimper, Dean rolls his hips into Cas’ fist, sighing when it relieves a bit of the ache.

He keeps staring into Cas’ bright eyes as Cas leans in closer, taking Dean’s bottom lip between his teeth, his hand speeding up around Dean’s cock.

With a low moan, Dean closes his eyes and buries his face in Cas’ neck, inhaling the salty smell of sweat and the distinct scent of _Cas_. He circles Cas’ waist with his arms, hands clutching his back to ground himself, but nevertheless he’s losing himself in Cas. Even though he’d really like to kiss along Cas’ throat, he simply can’t, because Cas is doing an amazing job at making him feel good.

“Ngh, Cas, I’m already close,” he groans against Cas’ neck as his hips buck into his big hand.

Castiel’s breath is hot against his shoulder. “It’s okay, Dean, I got you. Come for me, will you?”

For a brief moment, Cas’ hand on Dean’s disappears, and several seconds later Dean feels wet fingers sliding between his cheeks. Dean grunts as pleasure zings through his body, and it turns into a moan when one of those clever fingers press gently against his hole.

“Cas, fuck, ah…” After that, there are only incoherent sounds leaving Dean’s lips. Desperately, he pumps his hips faster into Cas’ tight fist while also enjoying the soft nudge between his cheeks. His orgasm builds fast, and within seconds, he reaches his climax, spilling over Cas’ hand and coating both their bellies with his come.

He pants against Castiel’s shoulder, rolling his hips as he rides out his orgasm. When he comes back to his senses, he presses soft kisses on Cas’ throat, up to his jaw and finally reaching his mouth. They exchange a few lazy kisses, Cas’ hands stroking his sides. Cas’ eyes are wide and sparkle.

“Hey,” Dean mumbles and cards his hand through the thick, dark hair.

“Hey,” Cas rumbles as a soft smile spreads across his face. “Are you okay?”

Dean nods. “’M good…”

Cas presses a firm, long kiss on his lips. “Let me get us cleaned up.”

Feeling the exhaustion seeping in, Dean nods slowly and slides off of Cas, scooting back on the bed until he can rest against the headboard. With his eyes, he follows Cas, who leaves the bedroom butt-naked. Dean files this view away for later. It’s excellent material to get off on in the future, when he’s back at his own place.

Dean’s heart sinks when he thinks about it. What if Cas won’t leave with him?

He swallows and forces a smile onto his lips when Cas returns with a damp washcloth. As soon as Castiel wipes him down, he blushes, but Cas just smiles and kisses him briefly. “It’s okay, Dean.” Seconds later, he’s already disappeared through the door.

Dean sighs and gets up to search for his underwear as he tries to push down all the negative thoughts. Because, fuck, what he just did with Cas was amazing! So instead of moping, he should be happy, right? Right.

He climbs back into bed, getting under the covers together with Cas after they’ve switched off the lights.

Cas pushes him on his side, making him the little spoon. A strong arm snakes around his waist and Dean melts into the warmth of Cas’ body. He feels him pressing soft kisses on his neck and fuck, this feels so good. With a deep breath, Dean takes Cas’ hand into his own, squeezing it lightly.

He feels so much but it doesn’t feel like it’s the right time to tell Cas. There’s this thing between them, the uncertainty of their future, which holds Dean back. He can’t be truly happy. Probably ever.

Cas must feel him tense up, because his thumb starts to stroke over Dean’s knuckles. “What is it?” he whispers, breath ghosting over Dean’s neck.

“It’s just…” Dean takes a deep breath. “I’ll miss you.” Yeah, that much he can probably say.

Now it’s Castiel’s turn to tense and he scoots away just to push Dean onto his back so that they can face each other. It’s not too dark, thanks to the moonlight, so Dean can see Cas’ frown.

“What do you mean?”

Dean furrows his brows. “Well, it’s not like I can stay here forever. I live in Kansas, right?”

Some seconds go by where Cas doesn’t move, then he nods and lies on his back.

“Cas?” Dean wonders if Castiel forgot about that for a moment.

“Yes. I know that, Dean. You’re welcome to stay here, though, for as long as you want.”

Dean’s eyes widen because that sounds suspiciously like Cas wants him to basically move in.

“I appreciate that, Cas. But I can’t stay here too long. Sam’s in Kansas, Mom drops in sometimes… I live there, Cas…”

“I see.” The answer is too curt to be ignored. Dean isn’t fooled, Cas doesn’t like this.

In an attempt to placate, he turns on his side and shuffles closer, putting a hand on Cas’ forearm. “Hey, please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” Cas says. “Let’s think about this tomorrow. I’m tired…” And this sounds exactly like Cas, in fact, _is mad._

Dean sighs and nods. “Yeah, okay…”

They stay silent after that, the tension between them palpable. Great.

Slowly, Dean turns around, facing away from Cas. Wow, this evening went to shit pretty fast. He actually shouldn’t be surprised, because since the moment he arrived here, he’s always walked on eggshells. He’d been careful around Cas, but still managed to fuck up a couple of times. And it’s still happening.

The worst thing is that he doesn’t know how to do better. He wants to, but he’s at a loss for how to do it. Maybe he should talk to Sam.

And that’s another thing he has to figure out. Should he tell Sam about them? Is there a “them,” at all? Right now, it doesn’t feel like it. Even though Castiel is right next to him, Dean feels lonely. He can only hope that they’ll be able to figure out how to proceed.

This night, he doesn’t fall asleep fast. It takes hours of tossing around, and what makes it even harder to fall asleep is that he feels Cas having nightmares. It makes his heart ache and every time the nightmares seem to get too bad, he gently nudges Cas’ shoulder, whispering soothing words into his ear. Dean’s not that much of an asshole; he still wants to help Cas and even though they’re kind of fighting, he can’t just abandon him. So he stays at his side and he’s pleased that Cas never fully wakes up. At least one of them will wake up well-rested, he hopes.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: canon-typical violence, vomiting

It’s the smell of coffee that wakes Dean up in the morning. He blinks his eyes open and stares across the room towards the windows. The sky is grey, clouds dimming the light. Cas is not lying next to him anymore, but that doesn’t concern him, since he must be the one brewing the coffee.

Dean sighs and closes his eyes again, noticing a slight pain building behind his eyes, and once again, he’s afraid of a severe migraine. He can’t endure that again, not yet. Maybe it’s just a normal headache, building because of his lack of sleep.

Dean swallows, but his throat is bone dry. He feels uncomfortable and not well-rested. He’s exhausted. Catching three hours of sleep apparently isn’t enough anymore for his forty-year-old body.

With a groan, he pushes himself up and gets out of bed. He can hear the chirping of birds, clattering in the kitchen, and a dog barking in the distance, but there’s another sound that catches his attention. Voices.

Confused, Dean furrows his brow, thinking, and then it hits him. Sam. He must be here already.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath and hurries to grab his clothes. It’s only then that he notices that there are barely any clean clothes left. He swears again, slipping into the jeans from the day before and throwing on the last T-shirt that he hasn’t worn yet.

With a pounding head, he leaves the bedroom and heads into the kitchen. As he’d assumed, Sam has already arrived. But to his surprise, his moose of a brother looks rather miserable. It looks like he hasn’t shaved in days, his eyes are bloodshot and his shoulders are slumped.

“Hey, Sammy, didn’t you take a break while driving? I didn’t expect you yet,” he greets him, before he nods briefly in Cas’ direction. The former angel busies himself with filling coffee into three mugs.

“Huh?” Sam looks at him in annoyance. “Dude, did you take a look at your watch? It’s past noon. What made you sleep so long?”

Dean’s taken aback, because he really thought it was still morning. His gaze wanders to the clock on the wall, and yep, it’s 1 o’clock in the afternoon.

“Oh.”

He shrugs and scratches the back of his head. “How long have you been here?”

“I arrived an hour ago.” He shoots Cas a grateful smile when he gets a cup of coffee. “Thanks.”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest. “So, what’s up? Your hair isn’t as glossy as it used to be. That’s what got you so miserable? Can’t give you any tips on that, you know.” His grin is small, and Sam just huffs a quiet laugh.

“My hair is perfectly fine.”

“Mh-hmmm.”

Dean takes his coffee from Cas, and they share a short glance, but he can’t tell if Cas is still mad at him. As long as they avoid talking about it, Dean won’t feel okay around Cas.

Unfortunately, Sam seems to pick up on their mood. “Is everything okay?” His gaze flicks from Dean to Cas. “Did something happen?” But Sam doesn’t even give them time to answer. “Oh, Cas, what about your injury? How are you doing?”

Cas gives him a smile which doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m fine, Sam. Jack was here yesterday, and he healed me.”

Sam’s eyes widen. “Oh, that’s good. Is Jack okay? It’s been several weeks since I last saw him.”

Cas nods before he sips his coffee. “Yes, he’s quite busy with hunting. He’ll meet up with Mary for the next case.”

“Huh…” Sam nods and looks at Dean. “So everything’s fine?”

Dean can tell that Sam senses that something’s wrong, but he shrugs nevertheless.

“Yeah, sure. Cas is fine, I’m fine. So, let’s talk about you.” He gestures towards the kitchen table and they all sit down with their mugs in their hands. “Why did you want to come here all of a sudden?” He squints at his brother. “Is it a case?”

Sam shakes his head. “God, no…”

“Is it Sully? Did something happen to him?”

“No, Dean, Sully is okay. He’s in the backyard right now.” Sam lowers his gaze and holds tightly onto his cup of coffee, but he doesn’t add anything. And that confuses Dean because Sam rarely doesn’t know what to say.

They look up when Cas suddenly stands up. “I should leave you alone. I’ll join Sully in the garden.” And with that, he disappears through the back door. Sam doesn’t protest, so Dean guesses that it must be something very private that he wants to tell him.

“Sam, come on, spill the beans. Is it about Val?” His little brother only nods. Dean sighs, but keeps on guessing. “Did you get her pregnant?”

Immediately, Sam shakes his head. “God, no, she’s not pregnant. We, uh… We broke up.” He sounds resigned; his voice is quiet, as if he’s already screamed out all of his anger.

Dean rubs a hand over his face and leans back. “I’m sorry, Sam,” he whispers. And he really is.

Thing is, he had high hopes for Sam. It felt like this new start in their lives would bring them good times. Finally, they could lead their lives like they wanted, monster-free. A chance to lead a normal life. And Dean knows how much Sam wanted a healthy relationship. Just like Dean, Sam doesn’t want to be alone anymore. He needs a partner at his side. But apparently it didn’t work out.

Dean clears his throat. “Hey, you know… It was your second relationship since we decided to quit hunting. Sometimes, it takes a few attempts. Just don’t give up, ‘kay? You’ll meet the right person, eventually.” He scratches his head. “I’m not good at pep talks, you know that.”

Sam sighs and nods, lifting his head to look at Dean. “No, you’re right… It would have been a miracle if it had worked with Lucy right away.” Lucy, yeah, that was the first girl Sam had dated, months ago.

He leans forward and pats his brother on the shoulder. “You’re still young, man. You’ll find someone.”

Sam huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “Do you want to know what happened?”

When Dean nods, Sam buries his face in his hands. “I found out that she’d been a prostitute. That’s not a problem, per se. I mean, we know that sometimes you have to do…things to get money, but uh…” Sam swallows audibly. “She was still active when we got together, and she only stopped four weeks into our relationship.”

Dean’s eyes widen. “Fuck. She cheated on you.”

Sam nods, pushing his hands through his hair. “Yeah, that’s how it feels.”

“That’s how it is,” Dean adds with furrowed brows. “Fuck, Sam, I’m so sorry. It’s not cool what she did.”

Sam nods. “I only found out because some dude was talking to her at a restaurant. She wouldn’t have told me herself because she was too embarrassed. And I get it, I think, but… I can’t be with her anymore, knowing that she screwed some guys in the evening, and at night, she came to me and… Ugh.”

Sam shakes his head and scrubs a hand over his mouth. His eyes land on Dean. “So… Let’s talk about you. What’s up with you and Cas? You seem tense.”

Dean sighs languidly, then he shakes his head. “Sam, it’s…”

“If you say ‘nothing’ I’ll punch you,” his brother groans.

Dean shoots him a glare. “Sam, it’s complicated, okay? I haven’t processed yet what’s happened and…” He gives a helpless shrug.

“Okay, what happened, then?” Sam expectantly raises his eyebrows at him and Dean bites his bottom lip. He’s really not the type to talk about all this feelings shit, it’s already been hard enough to do it with Cas.

Sam’s eyes soften but at the same time, he looks a little disappointed. . Reluctantly, he takes a look at the garden, and yup, Cas is still out there.

He takes a deep breath and looks at Sam. “Well, uh… So… Actually, uhm, Cas and I, we… Ah, we talked a lot.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And then he kinda kissed me…” He blushes furiously, but Sam only nods, not even batting an eye at the admission. “And the next night, he did it again. And I, uh… Kissed him back.” Sam nods once more, as if it’s totally normal that Dean talks about kissing guys. “So… We talked about this thing between us… The, uhm, attraction or whatever…” He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, and maybe we did some things in bed, you know…”

Sam cocks his head and gives him a curious look. “Okay, so you got pretty serious?”

Dean shrugs. “Yeah, guess you can say that. And well, then he got pissed yesterday. You know, after we, uh…did some things…” Sam just frowns in confusion, so Dean briefly explains what happened after Dean had said that he’d miss Cas.

Much to Dean’s annoyance, Sam almost immediately looks like he gets it. He sighs deeply as he shoots a look at Dean that says “sometimes you’re an idiot.”

“Oh Dean… It’s really serious, huh?” His eyes sparkle with fondness. “So, do you, you know? Love him?”

Dean’s eyes widen as he almost chokes on his coffee. “Jesus, Sam! Get it together, man…” Sam just scoffs. “No, come on. I already told you too much. Let’s just…not…” Dean shakes his head and gets up. “I need something to eat. There’s a headache coming.”

Immediately, his brother goes into mother hen mode and looks up at him with a sharp look. “Is it another migraine?”

“Dunno,” Dean shrugs. “I hope not. It’s only been a few days since I had the last attack.”

“Yeah…” Sam sighs. “Michael is dead, but he’s still kind of around, isn’t he?”

Dean nods weakly. “Unfortunately, yes… Do you wanna eat something?”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

Dean takes a look into Cas’ fridge and busies himself with preparing some grilled cheese sandwiches, ignoring his brother’s slightly concerned and thoughtful gaze.

Before he can ask Sam about the length of his stay, Cas returns to the kitchen, going straight to the sink to rinse out his mug. Sam visibly perks up and Dean knows that his brother is about to say something stupid.

“Hey, Cas, you got a great place here.”

Cas doesn’t turn around as he mutters a polite “Thank you, Sam.”

Dean’s shoulders tense, his concentration on slicing the cheese faltering.

“So, I guess you plan on staying here, maybe forever?” Cas’ hands slow, then he puts the mug aside. He exchanges a quick glance with Dean who stands next to him at the counter, then he turns around. His expression gives nothing away, it’s fucking neutral. Dean stares down at the cheese, not daring to keep on slicing it right now because he’s really interested in Cas’ answer.

“Yes, I’ll keep the cabin. It’s my home now.” Dean’s heart sinks. “And it was a gift from a dear friend. I once learned that you keep those.” He briefly looks at Dean, who can’t hold back and huffs an annoyed laugh.

“Wonder who taught you that,” he mutters under his breath as he glares at Cas. His hand tightens around the knife, but before he or Cas can add something, Sam pipes up.

“Oh. So you’ll be here all on your own, and we get to see you once a year? I mean, it’s about a nine-hour drive between our cities.” Sam’s brow furrows and he seems genuinely disturbed by Cas’ plan for the future. But Dean also feels that Sam is irritated on Dean’s behalf. Because he’s asking the right questions—the ones that have grated on Dean’s nerves for weeks now. “Cas, look, when you left the bunker, we always thought that you would come back. I mean, do you not think that we should stay together? We’re a family, after all!”

Silence settles between them. Dean braces himself on the counter, taking a deep breath, while Cas and Sam stare at each other. Eventually, Castiel sighs and takes a seat at the table opposite of Sam.

“I’m not an expert when it comes to family, Sam. So far, the only ones who were constantly together are you and Dean. Mary isn’t with you all the time, Jack isn’t, either. And neither am I. So I don’t see the problem. It’s like it’s always been. We’ll see each other sometimes. I thought that was enough.” And if that isn’t a stab in the chest.

Dean slams the knife onto the counter and turns around, not sparing a glance at his brother or Cas. “Yeah, that’s enough,” he mutters as he storms out of the kitchen, hearing an exasperated “Dean!” from Sam.

But Dean doesn’t stop. He fetches his gun from the bedroom because there’s no chance that he’s leaving the cabin without something to defend himself, then he heads out into the woods. The only message he got from Cas was a loud and clear _I won’t miss you, Dean. I won’t miss any of you_. **_I don’t need you._**

Sweet. Really, that’s freakin’ awesome, especially after the events of the past few days. Dean thought that something had been developing between them, and that maybe this could be more, but clearly that won’t happen. What the fuck is Cas thinking?

Of course Dean’s freaking phone chimes and vibrates but he refuses to acknowledge it.

He’s pissed and needs a minute to himself so that he won’t yell at Cas. His thoughts are chaotic, there’s anger, disappointment, and rejection, and it hurts like a bitch. It feels like he can’t breathe as he stomps through the woods without looking back, like he has to put as much space as possible between himself and Cas, as fast as he can. Maybe a little run will cool him down, ease the pain in his chest.

The sky above him darkens even more under stark, grey clouds. “Great, it’s gonna rain,” he mutters under his breath, swearing because he really doesn’t want to get wet, but he’s also not ready to return yet.

Just as he’s tripping over a root or something, he hears a growl that’s worryingly close, and then something hits him with full force from the side. He feels like he’s the victim of a train wreck, stepping over the track when he really shouldn’t have. Whatever is attacking him, it knocks him off his feet, making him fly several yards before he hits the cold ground. The impact makes his vision blur and he tries to blink open his eyes. The thing is right above him, growling deep and loud again. It’s terrifying. When Dean tries to throw it off his back, he’s lifted off the ground and his head is smashed against the nearest tree. He groans, his vision blackens for a moment and he feels warm blood streaming down his face as a searing pain explodes in his head. He’s in fucking trouble. His body won’t follow his orders. He tries to get out of whatever claws are holding him, but he’s too weak for that. His limbs are heavy, probably from the head injury, and so Dean can’t do anything when the thing behind him once more crashes his head against the tree. This time, Dean doesn’t even make a sound. He’s already delirious, but he notices the aggressive snarl of the creature.

Suddenly, the grip around his head and shoulders disappears, and while he’s falling face-down on the ground, he thinks he can see from the corner of his eye that the shape of the thing is disappearing between the trees. So whatever attacked him, it’s got other business now. Before he can be relieved about that and try to get back to the cabin, he passes out to the feeling of rain on his skin and to the taste of blood on his tongue.

***.*.***

When Dean comes to himself again, it’s to a pounding headache. The pain is almost blinding. He groans, because it fucking hurts to even open his eyes, but he tries to, anyway.

It’s still raining, and when he moves his limbs a bit, he notices that he’s soaked. For a brief moment, he wonders how long he’s been lying here, but his head is fucking killing him, making his stomach churn dangerously and forcing away any other thoughts.

He’s sure he’s blacked out again for a moment, because the next thing he sees is a puddle of vomit on the wet grass. The attempt to push himself up fails, and Dean swears breathlessly.

Shit, fuck! The creature that had attacked him could come back any moment and finish what it started: eat him, kidnap him, beat him to death. Whatever. He’s not keen on finding out.

With a pained gasp, Dean tries to roll onto his back, but he just makes it to his side, patting his jacket for his phone. He can’t find it. Groaning, he squeezes his eyes shut. His head feels like it’s been split open and Dean’s reminded of his most severe migraines. Yeah, it feels like a migraine, maybe because his head has been smashed against the tree. Fuck fuck fuck!

But there’s a second pain, a slightly different one. It’s also his head; maybe it’s the injury.

Briefly, Dean thinks of Sam and Cas back at the cabin. They don’t know he’s here. They don’t know that he’s deep in the forest, that he’s hurt, that he was attacked. It’ll take some time before they come looking for him. Dean’s in fucking deep trouble.

He has to help himself. He can do that.

Once more, Dean tries to get up, but he doesn’t make it. He’s weak, he’s in freakin’ pain, and his arms and legs feel like they don’t belong to him. His nausea comes back violently at the attempt to get to his feet, and he knows he’s going to puke again. He braces himself for it, but before it happens, he passes out again.

***.*.***

The next time he’s awake, the rain has stopped and Dean’s freezing. It’s still dim, due to the dark clouds in the sky. Dean doesn’t try to get up again, but instead, he tries to crawl his way back. It’s stupid, though, because he can’t really tell where he came from, especially when he’s lying on the ground instead of being at walking height.

Very soon, Dean realizes that even crawling takes too much effort. All he can concentrate on is the searing pain in his head, and he doesn’t just blame the creature for fucking him up like that, but Michael, too.

***.*.***

Dean doesn’t remember passing out, but it must’ve happened, because when he opens his eyes again, it’s dark. Now, he’s beyond cold but he doesn’t really care. There are bigger problems to deal with. Like, he doesn’t know where exactly he is, or where the cabin is. The migraine makes it hard to think, the head injury makes it hard to move.

So he’s lying in the dark, soaked, freezing, and unable to fight his way back. He feels sick to his stomach, but he’s sure there isn’t anything left in him that he could possibly spit out, at this point.

_“Let me in.” _

Dean’s breath hitches in his throat, which is sore from vomiting. He knows that voice. Last time he heard it, it’d been in his head.

_“Dean, I can help you, you know I can. I can heal your pain. Let me in.”_

With his heart rate picking up, Dean tries to look around. There’s no light or divine glow like he fears. No one’s there. So what the hell?!

He curls into himself and shuts his eyes. “Get out! Get out, get out, get out!” he mumbles to himself, repeating it over and over again while Michael’s voice keeps begging in his head. Dean can’t even think about the reason why the archangel is suddenly back. Didn’t they kill him? Cas and Sam had assured him they’d killed him. They’d promised. Maybe they made a mistake?

All Dean wants is to yell at Michael, he wants to force him out of his body, or wherever he is right now. He wants Michael to be _gone_. But he can’t, because the pain in his head and the sick feeling in his stomach are way too distracting. So he sticks to muttering under his breath, pulling his knees up to his chest even though they start to hurt, too. This pain is nothing compared to the migraine or whatever it is that is trying to push his eyes out of their sockets.

Shivering and mostly blind to his surroundings, since the moonlight doesn’t quite make it through the canopy of all these freakishly tall trees, Dean manages not to black out again as he lies on the damp grass. The only good thing, so far, is that the creature that attacked Dean hasn’t come back yet. Dean’s still alive, and maybe he’ll make it through the night, somehow. Dean figures it’d be probably better to stay awake, but his eyelids droop, and sleep is welcoming him with a warm embrace. He’s ready to give in.

_“Now let me in, you worthless piece of...!”_

“No!” Dean shouts, having gathered enough strength to shout at the disembodied voice in his head.He immediately regrets it, though, as he feels another dangerous churn in his stomach. He groans, almost missing the shout in the dark.

“Dean?”

“Dean!”

“Sam, I found him! Come here!” There’s something bright pointing at Dean. He blinks his eyes open and sees a flashlight. As it sweeps over his eyes, he screws them shut and groans because it fucking hurts.

“Dean?” It’s Cas’ breathless voice.

In the next moment, Cas kneels down beside him, his hands warm on Dean’s shoulder. He feels Cas trying to sit him up a bit, but Dean groans and tries to push him away.

“No...” It’s a breathy murmur, but Cas must hear it, anyway, because he makes a confused noise in the back of his throat. When Dean leans away from him, he hears footsteps approaching them, but he can’t look up to see who it is. Bile is rising, and the next second, he’s retching. There’s nothing left to come out, though. There’s a soothing hand on Dean’s back, and another one steadying his shoulder.

“It’s okay Dean, we’re here...” Cas.

“We’ll get you back to the cabin. You’re gonna be fine, Dean.” Sam.

Dean sucks in a deep breath and he blinks at both Cas and Sam, who are slightly visible thanks to the flashlights lying on the ground. “Michael... in my head...” he mumbles weakly, not able to explain. He sighs and tries to stay awake. He sees Cas and Sam exchanging short glances, then Sam looks back at him.

“Dean, Michael is gone. We killed him. He isn’t in your head. It’s memories. Or visions. Don’t worry.”

Cas’ fingers are rubbing soothing circles between his shoulder blades. “Everything’s okay. You’re safe, Dean. You’re safe,” Cas promises him with such an earnest voice that Dean believes it. His eyes slip closed, but he feels Cas twisting a little, maybe to face Sam.

“There’s a lot of blood on his face.”

There’s a gentle touch on his forehead and judging by the callouses, it’s his brother.

“Yeah, there’s a deep cut,” Sam says.

Dean tries to clear his throat, and he wants to shake his head but he knows better. “Nh...migraine...” he mutters and tries to open his eyes again, but it’s taking too much effort. He thinks he hears Sam asking him something, but he just grunts. Then there’s Cas concerned voice, getting louder, but Dean slips into unconsciousness again.

This time, though, he knows he’s not alone anymore. His family is right here with him.

***.*.***

When Dean wakes up, it’s not pain that’s killing him, it’s his mouth. He’s got a serious case of morning breath going on.

A disgusted sound leaves his throat, and he slowly opens his eyes. He’s glad that the headache is down to a barely noticeable thud behind his temples. Dean wants to look around, because he’s not sure where he is, but his face is pressed into a not-so-soft pillow. When he lifts his head, he feels something warm in his hair—a hand. He looks up and stares right into blue eyes.

Cas blinks several times as he returns Dean’s gaze. There are bags under his bloodshot eyes, the stubble on his jaw is even more prominent, his hair is a little greasy and it’s an absolute mess, like Dean’s never seen it before.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas’ voice is low and raspy like he’s been sleeping, too.

Dean clears his throat. “Hey,” he croaks and sits up slowly. It’s at this moment that he understands that he’d been sleeping face-first in Cas’ lap. And that has him blushing, but Cas doesn’t seem to notice.

“How are you feeling?” he asks as his fingers stroke Dean’s cheek.

“I’m okay, I think,” Dean answers after briefly thinking about it. “I need water...”

Cas nods and leans to the side to pour some water from a bottle into a glass. Dean notices that they’re in Cas’ bedroom when Cas pushes the glass into his hand.

“Are you really okay? Are you in pain?”

Dean chugs down the entire glass of water, then he smiles tiredly at Cas. “I have a slight headache but other than that, I’m good.”

Cas still seems to be upset, though. The small smile on his lips doesn’t reach his eyes and he looks so exhausted.

“What happened to you? You look awful.”

The smile on Cas’ chapped lips falters and he looks even more upset. Dean curses himself, but before he’s able to apologize, Cas wraps his arms around his shoulders, burying his face into Dean’s neck.

“Hey, hey, Cas...” Surprised, Dean lifts his arms and wraps them around Cas’ waist. “Are you okay?” He feels Cas’ breath hot and quick against his neck while Cas tightens his grip around him.

“Yes, I’m just glad to see you awake and well.”

Dean sighs and nuzzles Cas’s shoulder. He’s touched. “You were worried.”

“A lot,” Cas murmurs and presses a kiss onto Dean’s pulse point, then he draws back hesitantly. “We should talk to Sam. He’s worried, too. We took turns looking after you.”

Dean nods. “He okay?”

Cas shrugs and shoots him a small smile. “Would you be okay if he’d been in your situation?” Dean’s mouth twitches and Cas nods. “I thought so.”

“What was my situation, anyway?”

“We’ll explain that to you. Come on.” Cas gets up and holds out a hand which Dean takes without thinking about it.

“I’ll use the bathroom quickly and then I’ll join you.” Cas nods and only lets him go hesitantly. Dean can’t put a finger on it, but there’s something fragile between them. He takes a leak, washes his hands and quickly brushes his teeth to chase away the animal that apparently died in his mouth while he was asleep.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he has to admit that he looks awful, too. Unlike Cas, there are no bags under his eyes, but he’s pale, he’s grown a thick beard—he can’t even remember when he last shaved—and there’s a bandage covering his head wound. Sighing, he splashes some cold water onto his face, dries himself off, and leaves the bathroom.

“Dude!” Sam has him in a bear hug right when he enters the living room. Surprised, he pats his brother’s shoulder and takes a step back.

“Jesus, Sam...” Recognizing the dangerously glistening eyes, he casts his eyes down and rubs his neck. Sam is acting like Dean died and came back—like it had been really damn serious—and it’s making Dean nervous.

“Let’s sit,” Cas suggests, coming from the kitchen. Dean settles on the couch and Cas takes a seat right next to him, while Sam sits down on the other couch. “Eat up.” Cas hands him a plate full of bacon and eggs and there’s also a small sandwich with lettuce and tomato and all that crap.

“Thanks, Cas.” He shoots him a fond smile before he digs in, and it’s only then that he notices how starved he is. “God...feels like I haven’t eaten in weeks.”

Sam gives him a funny smile. “Well, you slept a lot. We woke you up once in a while, just in case you had a concussion.” Dean lowers the fork he’s holding and stares at Sam.

“What? I don’t remember that.”

Sam runs a hand through his hair. “We suspected you had a concussion because of your head injury, and the repeated vomiting. We were really worried about you... You kept having severe nightmares or something, threatening to fall off the bed, but with you having a concussion...”

“Yeah, I know, you have to rest and aren’t allowed to do anything fun.”

Sam smiles softly at him. “So, uh, how are you?”

“I’m okay.” Sam gives him a look that clearly says ‘Come on, I know you’re lying,’ so he adds, “It’s true, okay? I mean, I don’t feel great, I’m tired and kinda weak, but... I guess I’m okay. Really.”

Sam nods slowly and Dean resumes eating. It’s delicious, he’s fucking hungry, and so he only needs about two minutes until he’s polished off the plate. When he sets it down on the coffee table, Cas seems to be very pleased.

“Smug looks good on you,” he comments with a grin and without thinking, he lays a hand on Castiel’s thigh and squeezes lightly. To his surprise, Cas blushes and his eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t say anything, and doesn’t do anything, and it’s then that Dean remembers that they had a fight—and they never sorted it out. So aren’t they actually still fighting? It’s with a pang in his chest that he withdraws his hand and looks at Sam, who seems to be oblivious to the tension.

“Tell us what happened in the woods,” his brother prompts, and Dean’s relieved to be distracted from the problems with Cas.

“Yeah, I, uh... I just went for walk, and I think I was in pretty deep.“

Sam nods. “It took us about twenty minutes to get you back here.”

“You went so far that you left the warding circle... I didn’t even know you were in danger,” Cas mutters with an unhappy voice.

“Huh... Well, so, I suddenly heard something... Like a growl. I was knocked off my feet and whatever attacked me, it hit my head twice against a tree.” He sighs. “I couldn’t fight it, this thing was just too strong. Plus, it surprised me. I thought that was it,” he huffs. “Before I blacked out, I noticed it was running away. Lucky break, I guess. When I woke up, I tried to go back to the cabin, but I was disoriented and well...” He shrugs, not mentioning the migraine again because he hates having those—they make him weak and defenseless like a baby.

Sam hums, a concerned look on his face. “I’m sorry we didn’t find you faster. We didn’t exactly know where to look.” When Dean just shrugs again, Sam carries on. “Do you have any idea what attacked you?”

Dean thinks about it and tries to remember anything useful, but eventually, he shakes his head. “Nah... I didn’t see anything. It came from the right-hand side, knocked me down... It pressed me into the dirt from above, and when it had my head in its grip, the only thing I could see was the tree.” He smiles faintly. “I’m sorry. When it took off, I think it was more or less human-shaped, but that’s not gonna help us.”

Sam nods and pushes a strand of his long hair out of his face.

“Dean,” Cas murmurs and he turns to look at him. “Maybe this creature was the same one that...attacked the cat?” He can see Cas swallow and he’s reminded that Cas is still struggling with the death of his cat.

“Yeah...could be, I guess.” They fill Sam in on what happened, and he promises to set to work and do a little research, and call the hunters that are supposed to come to Avon. Nobody knows if they’ve been here already.

Dean excuses himself back to bed because he still feels a little off, and Sam and Cas encourage him, clearly still worried about him and wanting him to rest.


	13. Chapter 13

Back in the bedroom, Dean stops in front of the bed, staring at it and absentmindedly biting his lower lip. He wants to make the bed more comfortable, which usually only happens when he’s having a migraine. With a sigh, Dean succumbs to his needs and puts the pillows into a new order before he pulls another blanket out of the chest in the corner. Ready to slide under the covers, he puts a knee onto the bed, but right then, there’s a sharp knock on the bedroom door.

“Dean?” It’s Cas.

“Come in,” he tells him, followed by a sigh because he figures this is going to get weird. They’re not okay. There are things left unsaid, and, just, ugh. He’s talked so much in the past few days—even though he hates talking—and it didn’t even help. It all comes down to Dean fucking everything up, like it’s a law or something.

A soft click indicates that Cas shut the door behind him, so Dean turns around to face him. Cas still looks as exhausted as Dean feels, even his eyes are kind of dull.

“You should sleep,” Dean blurts out, to which Cas responds with a small smile.

“Yes, I’ll do that. I wanted to check on you first.”

Dean can’t suppress a grin and he quickly looks at the clock. “Yeah, sure, it’s been ten minutes till you saw me last. That’s, uh...unbearable.”

Cas huffs a laugh and comes to sit on the edge of the bed, and since Dean doesn’t want to tower over him, he sits next to him.

“So, what’s up?” For a few seconds, Cas stays silent as if he’s thinking about it, then he takes Dean’s hand. Surprised, Dean stares at their entwined hands. Ten minutes ago, Cas didn’t seem to be comfortable with this kind of thing.

“I wanted to be with you,” Cas simply says and finally, Dean looks up, lifting their hands. “Yeah? And holding hands is okay now?” He can’t help the gruff tone.

Cas tilts his head as he squints at him. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable with this in front of Sam.”

Oh.

“Oh, well... Sam knows about us. I told him.”

“You did?” Now it’s Cas’ turn to be surprised.

Dean lowers his head and rubs his neck with his free hand, because he’s a bit embarrassed by the fact that Castiel knows that Dean tends to hide the important things from Sam.

”Yeah, I did…” he answers quietly. “There was no point in hiding that we fooled around.”

Cas lets go of his hand and goes still, and when Dean looks up at him, he catches Cas staring into nothing. “So that’s what it is for you? Fooling around?” His voice is cold. It takes a moment for Dean to understand what Cas actually means. What he _thinks._

“No! No, Cas, it’s not… It’s…” He fumbles with his words, clearly trying to say the right thing, but Castiel interrupts him, his eyes hard when he looks at Dean again.

“Don’t lie to me, Dean. Only yesterday, you said that you’d _miss me_. So you have every intention of leaving, just leaving, and who knows when you’ll come back. If at all.”

Dean’s eyes go wide with surprise, but soon enough, he’s getting irritated. Because _what the fuck?!_

He gets up and walks to the window facade, inhaling deeply, before he turns to face Cas. “What the hell? You, of all people, wanna tell me something about leaving? You? You’re like the king of leaving people behind, Cas, regardless of whether they’re family or friends!” He notices Cas’ jaw twitching, but he presses on. “I told you you shouldn’t leave! That we needed you at the bunker, or at least with us. But you wanted to leave so badly, Cas. You left me behind and you didn’t even tell me where you went, what you were doing. Nothing! You didn’t tell me shit. I had to wait for you to call me, and if something had happened to you, I’d never know! And now you try to…what, exactly? Give me shit because I can’t stay here? Because I decided to not leave my family behind? I am wherever Sam is. You know that.”

For a long moment, Cas stares right into his eyes, then he lowers his head, teeth gritting, but he stays silent.

“What? You wanna say something?”

He sees Cas’ hands clenching in the bedspread. “What am I supposed to say, Dean? Karma is a bitch?” Dean furrows his eyebrows. “I don’t want you to leave,” he says quietly, eyes flicking up to him.

And suddenly, Dean finds their roles reversed. He’s reminded of the scene in the bunker, when Cas was about to climb the stairs in order to leave, and Dean had given him a last, pleading look. _Don’t go, _he’d said,_ stay here, with us._

But Cas had gone anyway.

And now, it’s Cas who’s begging. It’s Cas who’s asking Dean to stay, not the other way around.

Dean’s anger leaves his body as fast as it came. He sighs deeply, his whole body deflating while he keeps his eyes trained on Castiel. “I would stay, Cas. If I could. I wish I could.” He’d never given it much thought, but yeah, it’s nice to be with Cas, and it doesn’t matter where that is. “But at this point, it wouldn’t feel right,” he adds carefully. “Every time I leave Sam, it’s been a bad decision. And you said it yourself: Sam’n’me, we’re stronger together.”

Cas squints at him, seemingly frustrated. “But you’re not hunting anymore,” he points out, his tone bordering on stubborn.

“Yes, but that’s not the point here. I don’t need Sam just for hunting. I need him with me because he’s my brother. He’s almost always been with me. I can’t have a nine-hour drive separating us,” he says, eyes pleading and with a sad attempt at a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Cas, I’m sorry. I’m codependent. I need him nearby to be sure that he’s safe, okay?”

Castiel stares at him wordlessly, his blue eyes boring into Dean’s own. Just when Dean starts to feel uncomfortable under that scrutinizing gaze, Cas lowers his head, looking defeated, and nods.

There’s a look on Cas’ face that Dean never wanted to see again. Sadness and disappointment. It looks like Cas is imagining his future—a future without the Winchesters, a future alone here in Avon—and even if Cas is the one that made the choice to stay here, it still feels all wrong and Dean feels sorry for him.

“Cas…” He sits down next to him and puts an arm around his shoulders, although he can feel Cas tense up under him, which produces a pang in his chest. “Cas, we’ll find a way, okay? I wanna…” He licks his lips, suddenly nervous. “I wanna be with you, and if you want that, too, then we, uh… We’ll find a way.” He briefly wonders if he’s actually asking for a relationship. _Whoa._

Cas turns his head to look at him and his eyes are wide, so very blue, and shining with hope. “You want to be together with me? I mean, you’re…interested in me? Romantically?” he asks with a quiet voice.

Dean really can’t help himself, he huffs a laugh. “Yeah, Cas. In case you didn’t know: when a guy drives nine hours to some remote place just to finally see you again, tends to your garden for you because you’re injured and he ends up sleeping with you… You can be pretty sure he’s into you.” Still, Cas looks a bit surprised. “C’mon Cas, you know me. Did you really think, after all what we did, that I’d just take off? That I feel nothing for you?”

Cas shrugs, looking small and not meeting his eyes. “I don’t know what to think, Dean. You called me family and a brother, and while I understand that those are important and good, they never sat quite right with me, because I don’t feel the same way about you as I do about Sam. Sam is a brother to me, but you are…more. And it never seemed like you thought the same about me…”

A soft smile blossoms on Dean’s face as he moves his hand to Cas’ cheek, caressing it with his fingertips. He feels Castiel pressing into the touch, his eyes fluttering. “But I do. You’re more to me, okay? I just showed it…in the wrong way, I guess.”

Castiel hums and snuggles into Dean’s side, tucking his head under Dean’s chin. It makes Dean smile even wider. It’s new, it’s unusual for Cas, it’s so very _human._ And Dean likes it.

“So, uh… What are we, now? I mean…” He trails off, not knowing how to phrase it without sounding like a teenage girl.

Cas’ arms wrap loosely around his waist, his head still pressed against Dean’s chest. “We are together, right?”

“Yeah, but… Are we, like, in a relationship now?” Wow, he’s so smooth.

“Do you _want _to label it?” Cas asks while a hand finds its way to Dean’s chest, gently stroking above the fabric of Dean’s shirt. It makes his skin tingle. “We don’t have to, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

For a few seconds, Dean mulls this thought over, then he shakes his head slightly. “I should know what to say to Sam and Mom… So, relationship, yeah?” He swallows. “Boyfriends?” It sounds odd, especially for a forty-year-old man.

When Cas answers him, he can hear the smile in his voice. “I’d prefer _partners_,_”_ he suggests, and Dean nods, relieved.

“Yeah, okay. I can live with that.”

They sit in a comfortable silence for a while, before Cas speaks up. “Do you really plan on telling Mary?”

“Sure, why not? Sam already knows, why hide it from anybody else?” Dean replies, not seeing the point.

“Okay.” Cas’ voice is a sleepy rumble.

Dean huffs a laugh. “Okay?”

“Mhhhhm…”

Dean laughs and gently shakes Cas’ shoulder. “Come on, let’s go to sleep.”

He twists his upper body around in order to rearrange his little nest, because he doesn’t need it tonight. Sleeping next to Cas is so much better. It gives him everything he needs.

He hauls Cas next to him on the bed, making himself comfortable after he pulls the blanket up to their chins. “What’s Sam doing?”

Cas hums sleepily. “Wanted to go to bed soon, too…” he mumbles as he puts his head on Dean’s shoulder, arm draping over Dean’s belly. Cas whispers something else that sounds close to something like a “g’night,” and he’s out like a light.

It makes Dean smile, warmth blooming in his chest. Oh, hell, he’s got it bad. There’s a pleasant fluttering right in his heart and he can guess what it is, but he won’t admit it. He’s not there yet, and he probably never will be, because his emotional constipation is as old as he is, thickened by each year of endless hunts. He’s surprised that, after all that’s happened, he’s able to feel anything, at all. He never got numb, and right now, he’s grateful for that.

Maybe he’ll never be able to tell Cas in detail how he feels about him, but he hopes that Cas will forgive him, that he won’t get angry or disappointed. And maybe Cas is experiencing a small case of emotional constipation, as well. It sure seems like it, because they’ve both had a hard time talking about things. Cas is repressing thoughts and feelings that are connected to his past as an angel. He had a rough time back when they were all still hunting, and now, as a human, he’s processing everything in a different way. A way that hurts him, that makes him feel the need to take freakin’ drugs to be able to deal with it.

With a quiet sigh, he covers Cas’ hand—still on Dean’s chest—with his own hand, squeezing lightly. He’s still afraid that Cas might go all 2014-druggie Castiel, a man damaged beyond repair, but Dean swears to himself that he’ll do his best to make Cas happy and keep him safe. So far, he’s done a shitty job—Cas got hurt badly, and his cat got killed, and Dean wasn’t even able to track that fucker down. But on the other hand, he knows that it upsets Cas when he goes hunting despite their mutual decision to quit.

Life’s still not easy.

Dean shuts his eyes and listens to Cas’ soft snores, which vibrate in his own chest, making him drowsy. Time to catch some z’s and to stop thinking.

***.*.***

The next morning, Dean wakes up early. It’s still dark outside; the sun barely touching the horizon.

Cas is wrapped around his back, hugging Dean tight against his chest. It’s warm under the covers, and Dean enjoys their intimate closeness for a few minutes. It’s nice to be snuggled up like this, and he soaks up the pleasant feelings it elicits.

Cas is breathing against his neck, the hot puffs making Dean’s skin tingle.

Dean tries to go back to sleep, but it doesn’t come, so he decides to get up, even though it’s nice to be next to a sleeping Cas.

Carefully, Dean disentangles himself from Cas, and quietly tiptoes out of the bedroom where he’s immediately hit with the fantastic smell of freshly brewed coffee.

Sam. Thank god for his brother.

In a flash, he’s in the kitchen, where Sam’s about to make breakfast, currently pulling out ingredients from the cupboard.

“Dude! Tell me there’s still some coffee.”

Sam blinks at him in surprise, then smiles with a short nod. “Yeah, help yourself.” Dean happily grabs a mug and fills some still steaming coffee into it. “You’re up early.”

Dean shrugs. “I guess I slept enough in the past few days.”

Sam nods and busies himself with making the batter for pancakes. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Sam, I’m fine, really.”

Sam’s movements falter and he finally turns around to look at Dean. “Uh… You sure? I’m not just referring to your health…” He seems uneasy and scratches his jaw, the scraping sound as Sam’s fingernails touch his stubble loud in Dean’s ears. Dean narrows his eyes, not understanding what Sam is getting at. Sam clears his throat. “Did you know that the walls here are really thin?”

Dean pales and his eyes go wide at the implication. “Uhm…” He doesn’t know what to say to that. So, Sam heard…?

“Don’t get mad. And don’t panic. Whatever.” Sam sighs. “I heard a bit of your conversation, when you two got loud. So, you want him with us, but he won’t leave?” Dean only manages a nod. “You know we can do something about that, right?”

He furrows his brows and stares up at Sam. “And what would that be?”

A soft smile lifts Sam’s mouth. “Let’s move here. I mean, I can come with you.” Dean blinks, stunned. “What’s holding us back?”

Dean stares at his brother, the need to sit down getting stronger, so he does just that. Then he thinks about what Sam’s said. What’s holding them back? They bought their houses just a few months ago, but they won’t take too huge of a loss if they resell them. To their families and friends, it probably doesn’t matter where Sam and Dean live. There’s just one little thing.

“What about your job?”

Sam laughs. “I’m sure I can get another one here. And you can, too.” He shrugs, then smiles, before he turns around to continue making breakfast. “Think about it and talk to Cas. I’m sure he’d be happy if we moved here.”

Dean doesn’t get the chance to reply, because suddenly, there’s Cas’ voice. “Yes, I’d definitely be happy to have you both close by.” He’s smiling softly as he enters the kitchen. Dean swallows and looks up at him. Although he’s relieved that Cas seems to be okay with their idea, he has doubts that everything will be so easy. When did he ever get what he wanted?

A warm hand settles on his neck, a thumb rubbing soothing circles into his skin. It calms him down immediately.

“You’d really be willing to give up your life in Kansas…? For me?” Cas’ voice is small, suddenly lacking any confidence. Dean exchanges a quick look with Sam, who just smiles reassuringly, and that’s all Dean needs. Fuck, he loves his brother.

“Hey, Cas…” He takes the hand that’s still on his neck and holds it in front of him, kissing the back of it. “We’re up for this. I don’t care where we live, as long as we’re all together.”

A small smile flickers across Cas’ face, but then it falters and he looks at Sam. “But what about your girlfriend?”

Dean winces and so does Sam, but his brother recovers quickly. “It didn’t work out. So there’s nothing keeping me in Kansas. It’s okay, Cas.” He smiles a rather sad smile, but Dean knows he’s telling the truth. “I’d feel better if we all lived near each other, so this is the best solution.”

Now it’s Cas who smiles, and it’s bright. It’s toothy and outright adorable, making his nose crinkle in that special and, well, cute way.

Dean feels his own face lighten up in response and he stands up just to press a quick kiss to Cas’ lips.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

***.*.***

**One month later…**

Exhausted but with a genuine smile on his lips, Dean wraps Sam in a brief but tight hug. “’m gonna miss you,” he says, releasing his brother, who snorts.

“Yeah, can’t say the same.”

Dean just grins, instead of giving Sam shit, even though it’s hard to fight against his big-brother instincts. His poor baby brother has had to endure _a lot_ of _very_ explicit noises over the past few weeks, and he probably needs a break from Dean teasing him. Neither Dean nor Cas could be bothered to give too much thought to Sam as soon as they entered their bedroom—yes, _their_ bedroom. Dean never let Cas sleep elsewhere, ever since Sam had decided it would be best if they just moved to Avon.

Cas had made it clear that he wanted Dean to move in, to share the cabin with him. He had wanted Dean to stay, and Dean’s first reaction had been to decline the offer, just because moving in together is a huge thing that they should’ve properly discussed, but Cas’ look had left no room for arguments. Dean had only nodded, intending to talk about it later, but the smile that Cas had given him had been so big and toothy and happy, that he had changed his mind.

The search for a suitable house had taken Sam a few weeks, so Cas had suggested that he stay with them for a while. Not being a lazy person, his brother had also put out feelers for a new job. Their favorite diner didn’t have any openings, but the waitress had suggested a restaurant right in the center of the town, and only a week later Sam already has a job. It doesn’t pay well, but it’s better than nothing.

After everything that had gone wrong for the brothers, and Cas, and between Cas and Dean, things are going well now. Dean’s happy, at least he thinks that’s how he’s been feeling these past few weeks, even though he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. But he enjoys every day as best as he can.

As he watches Sam getting Sully into his old Jeep, strong arms wrap around his waist from behind. Cas.

“Are you okay?”

Dean smiles. “I’m very okay,” he answers and waves when Sam’s car begins to drive away. “He’s not far away, just like it used to be.” He turns around to wrap his arms around Cas’ broad shoulders. “And you’re here, too. Right by my side, where you belong. It’s never been better.”

The happy smile that blooms on Cas’ face is dazzling. The corners of his eyes crinkle, his nose scrunches in that adorable way.

“Oh, Dean,” he sighs happily as he looks up to Dean with such a fond expression that it makes Dean’s heart ache in the most pleasant way. There’s the urge to tell Cas how he really feels, he wants to say those three most romantic words, but they get caught in his throat. He can’t do it. Why, he doesn’t know. It just doesn’t happen, and maybe it never will, but Cas looks happy nonetheless.

Dean hugs him tightly, pressing him against his chest to absorb the nice warmth of his body. “You think he’ll be okay?”

“Yes,” Cas answers immediately. “He’s got a nice house, friendly neighbors and Sully is with him. And if he needs any help, he won’t hesitate to reach out to us. Dean,” Cas adds with amusement. “You do remember that we’ll be seeing Sam tomorrow to help him unpack, right?”

Dean rolls his eyes and pulls away, smiling. “Yeah, ‘course I do. But I’ll never stop worrying. That’s my job as a big brother.”

“And you take that very seriously,” Cas comments with a smile on his face as he cups Dean’s cheek and drops a soft kiss on his lips. When he lets go of Dean, a grin spreads across his face. “I have a request.”

Dean raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Oookay? What is it?”

As soon as he notices what Cas is pulling out of his jeans pocket, his surprise grows—but it mixes with a warm, pleasant feeling. “You kept the mixtape?”

“Of course I did. These were your words,” Cas says while his fingers stroke over the tape that Dean once gave him as a gift. “The problem is that I don’t have the right device to play the tape. But I think your car can.”

Dean grins. “Damn right, she can.” He glances at the horizon where the sun’s setting. “You wanna do that tonight?”

At that, Cas’ grin turns mischievous. “Definitely. Sitting in your car at night, listening to music… It might get romantic.” He trails the fingers of his free hand down Dean’s chest. “_Very _romantic.”

Dean gulps, then nods vigorously as the implication sinks in. “Hell yeah.” Fooling around in his car is always a fucking turn on.

He grabs Cas’ hand and turns to go. “What are we waiting for?”

Cas just chuckles and squeezes Dean’s hand before following him.

Seems like Dean gets his happy ending, after all. In multiple ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it so far: congrats and thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story.  
I'll provide you with two new fics next year. I'd be happy to "see" you again then ;)


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